


Beauty in the Frost

by WinterCandyMints



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Beauty and the Beast AU, F/M, Fandral the Candlestick, FrostBeauty, lokane - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 76,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5830921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterCandyMints/pseuds/WinterCandyMints
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The invasion in New York was stopped; Thor returned to her; she had SHIELD and Stark Industries backing her research. Jane's life was going well. Until a candlestick landed in Thor's landing site instead of Thor. Maybe she's finally lost it, but if what the candle says is true, it's up to her to save Asgard. The question is: who's going to save her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I just got an account and decided to upload some of my work. This story can also be found on fanfiction.net.
> 
> There's not much else to say, besides, um, there needed to be a full-fledged, multi-chapter Beauty and the Beast Lokane AU and here is my shot at it. Let me know what you think.

 

Once upon a time in a kingdom far across the stretches of time and space lived a dark prince who lived in the shadow of his elder brother. Always being cast aside, he became resentful and bitter. Things changed for the worse on a fated journey to Jotunheim where the dark prince discovered his true heritage.

Blinded with rage, he set off to destroy his home realm, using the Bi-Frost. However in the chaos, his elder brother thwarted his efforts by bringing the bridge to destruction, causing him to fall from the bridge into the recesses of space. He fell into the clutches of a wicked titan whom convinced him to wage war on the little realm Midgard in hope of obtaining an Infinity Gem. With his armies, he was bound for glory in his conquest.

Alas, his elder brother discovered his whereabouts and sought after him. In the end, he was defeated by his brother and Midgard's mightiest heroes. With the Infinity Stone, there was a way to fix the Bi-Frost and return to their realm. His brother didn't have the decency to escort him back to Asgard; his brother instead insisted on staying with his mortal love on Midgard.

The prince traveled to Asgard alone met by an assembly of armed guards whom led him to the palace he once thought home. As he waited for his punishment in his once father's throne room, a curious event took place. Before his hearing was done, a mysterious figure appeared in front of the entryway, entering without permission. The guards could not stop the figure; if they tried, they passed through it. The figure approached the dark prince, ignoring the king's protests. With a firm grip, the figure clutched the dark prince's forearm, easily holding him in place despite his struggles. The creature, whatever it was, had a score to settle with Asgard. As it opened its mouth, it spoke a horrid enchantment against the prince and all in the kingdom.

Because the figure deemed the prince's heart as cold as ice, he was to be forced to wear the skin of his true birth, exposing the truth beneath his visage. Not only would he suffer, but the entire kingdom would fall under the curse. The kingdom, however, had a small speck of hope; the prince was given an ice rose. The rose would bloom for five years. The prince would have to find someone to love and he would have to gain her love in return. If not, the rose would wilt away and die, leaving him and the kingdom in their miserable state for eternity.

The prince became despaired. For who could love a monster?

 


	2. Breakfast

Jane stirred her coffee absently as she ran over the numbers in her head again. There was a chance - there had to be – and she was so close. She knew she was. The data was all there; it should work. Now what she had to do was…

"Jane."

She lifted her head slightly, looking up at the brunette across the table from her. The intern had her face screwed up in a frown.

"Jane, come on. Are you daydreaming again?"

Placing her spoon on the table, Jane gripped her mug with both hands and brought it to her lips. "Mmm," she hummed, enjoying the burst of flavor on her tongue. "I'm not daydreaming, Darcy," she looked pointedly over her mug at the woman. "I'm thinking over plans for our next phase of work."

"Yeah, that's daydreaming for you."

Jane gave her a strained look before returning to her mug. "Yeah, yeah, I know – I work too much."

"You said it." Darcy raised her eyebrows purposefully as she pivoted to grab her own mug from the table and then swept over to the coffee pot to refill it. "Alright, Boss Lady, what's our agenda?"

Jane nodded, humming. "First, we need to go over the data."

Darcy let out a whistle. "Alright, I'll get on that." She whipped out her phone, beginning to unlock the screen. "Right after this game."

"Darcy," Jane shot a warning glance.

Holding up her hands, the intern backed away. "Alright. Alright. Tell me what to do. I'll get it done."

Jane gathered up the papers on the table, lined them up neatly and handed them over to Darcy. "I need you to file these." Flashing a smile, she added, "Please."

Snatching away the papers, Darcy gave a half-hearted, 'yeah,' as she sauntered towards the filing cabinet. Things were in motion. Kind of. Jane inwardly cringed at the potential workload ahead of her. She made some major breakthroughs with the project, but overall she was still a long way off from her goal. Ever since that worm hole – Bi-Frost – opened up practically in her backyard and along with it opened up worlds of possibilities, she had been nonstop working, researching every scrap piece of information she could obtain on the anomalies that went along with them. Of course, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn't just hand over the data on Loki and the worm hole he came through as Thor had explained when she questioned him about Loki's transportation to earth, but that didn't mean Tony wouldn't happily hand it over if she asked. He did. Gladly. More than gladly. Tony sent it to her email within the following minutes after she requested it. While working on her project – with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s funding – she was introduced to Tony Stark and Bruce Banner as assets to help any of her research. Little did S.H.I.E.L.D. know that Tony would be divulging any and all information she requested, especially information deemed confidential. Loki was largely confidential.

Jane blew out a breath of air. She wasn't getting anywhere. After combing through the data, her project showed potential for its completion. In the first few weeks, going into the first couple of months, she had bursts of breakthroughs that propelled her, bounds and leaps through the project. She was doing phenomenally, brilliantly. Everything was falling into place. Everything was going beyond expectations. And then things halted. She hit a snag. She didn't just hit a snag. She slammed into a solid cement wall. A wall that held her back from that final phase, that final piece missing from the puzzle that would solve her dilemma. The answer had been in front of her – right there – she could have reached out and grabbed it. She could have grabbed it, but then BAM – pane of glass stopped her in her tracks. Now she needed to find a way to break that glass, make another breakthrough. The question was how? How could she get things moving again?

As she sifted through her thoughts, a voice filtered through. Her eyes darted up and caught Darcy staring at her intensely. "Huh?" she mumbled.

Darcy rolled her eyes and smiled. "Earth to Jane? Hello? I said we should take a break." She shrugged. "You have been really focused on work lately. How about we take a breather?"

Take a breather? Jane almost immediately denied the suggestion aloud. Darcy was trying to weasel her way out of work. The intern didn't do much else, but file away papers and fetch her important documents. As those thoughts rose inside her, they were as quickly snuffed out. She and, of course her assistant, Darcy have been working nonstop since Jane first sat down with the idea and let it run wild. In the past few days, she couldn't recall actually eating anything – she knew she ate her three meals, but she couldn't remember what they were or when she ate them. She was having a hard time recalling the last moment where she wasn't busy fretting over numbers and data. Jane hated to admit it, but Darcy was right. She was working too hard. She sighed. "Alright, Darcy," she said slowly, a grin already spreading wide in triumph on the intern's face. "Taking a break might do me some good." She shrugged, admitting, "Things have cooled off a bit. Maybe taking a 'breather' will help me think of new ideas."

Darcy punched the air with a whoop of cheer. "Alright, that's what I'm talking about! I know the perfect place."

Jane allowed a small smile as her intern excitedly grabbed the car keys and rushed out the door, only stopping once to call over her shoulder, "Let's go, Boss Lady!"

"I'm coming," Jane called back. Then a thought struck her and she added, "Give me a minute. I need to make a call."

"Hurry up," Darcy snapped. "I'm getting the car started. And then I'm personally escorting you to take a breather."

Standing from her seat, mug in hand, Jane made her way to her room where she was pretty certain she had left her cell phone. Upon entering, she found the room as it always was: in disarray; Files were piled on her desk; clothes were thrown about, neglected of being put away; she saw a plate of an unidentifiable food item shoved in the corner that she hadn't noticed until now. Jane took a deep breath. Darcy was right. She needed a break. She shook her head. Well, now she was getting one, a forced one, but one nonetheless. Her eyes were surveying the landfill that was once a room, which she pledged to clean later, when she spotted her phone on her nightstand next to her bed. Thankfully, the mess wasn't everywhere – she had the decency to leave a path to her bed and desk. She grabbed her phone and punched the speed dial button. After the first two rings, a familiar voice spoke.

_"Hey, if it isn't my favorite Asgardian tamer!"_

Jane cringed. Ever since Tony found out that she and Thor were sort of together – dating seemed too formal since they hadn't officially been on what most people referred to as a 'date' – he had continually worked into their conversations a comment about her ability – talent, he called it – to woo gods. She stopped correcting him about them being 'gods' about the third or sixth joke he cracked. She held the phone tilted away as she took a deep breath and then brought it back to speak. "Tony, listen, I am really close to something here."

_"You got Thor to sit and play fetch?"_

Jane held back a groan. Another golden retriever joke. She quickly went on before he got carried away. "About the Bi-Frost," she paused, gathering what she wanted to say. She was close. She knew she was. There was a problem though, and she needed Tony's help. The pause cost her. As soon as she opened her mouth to speak, Tony spoke.

_"Yeah, hey, speaking of Bi-Frosts, guess which genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist created a metal that can withstand subzero temps?"_

Jane knew she was going to regret it, but she asked anyway. "Tony, why did you create subzero metal?"

_"Hey, who told you it was me?"_ he sounded offended. _"You're right. It could only be me. It's state of the art. This metal would make Frosty look hot."_

"So, yeah, subzero metal. Why?" Jane repeated, ignoring him as he went on about it. "There are only a few places on earth with sub temps and I can't see much reason to crank out the Iron Man suit to fight off the evils of penguins." Being around Darcy and talking with Tony had sharpened her tongue more than usual.

_"You can't trust those flightless birds; they're unnatural. They could strike at any minute."_

"Yeah, uh-huh." He began to go on about how the birds proved a potential threat, but Jane wasn't having it – she had to get back to Darcy, who was probably throwing a fit having to wait in the car. This call was supposed to be quick, but there was no such thing with Tony.

_"Have you seen the movie, Birds? Penguins, same thing, only in water-"_

"Tony," Jane tried to keep her voice leveled. "What do frigid temps and penguins have to do with Bi-Frosts? Now would you -"

Tony wouldn't let her speak. He cut her off in an instant. _"Thor told me there were, um - what are they called,"_ he paused for half a second; Jane heard the distinct snap of fingers on the other end. _"Ah, realms! Thor told me about other realms. He mentioned some were particularly cold. I'm getting a head start, so when we drop into Giant Land and other places, I'm ready."_

The phone almost slipped from Jane's hand. "Wait, wait, what?" It all came out in a rush of air. She was grasping at words her brain couldn't make. "Wait. Tony. Why are you preparing already? We haven't even created a prototype. I mean, that's why I called you-"

He cut her off for the umpteenth time, she noted. _"You need a master engineer who can pull together real construction?"_

"Yes, I do. But the way you're talking makes it sound like-"

_"I've already made several prototypes."_

Her eyes widened and nearly popped out of her skull. She gaped. "What?"

_"Yeah, I have the data and files you sent and I decided to take a whack at it, see where this thing goes."_

"Wait. You're serious? You actually created Bi-Frosts?" Jane's heart raced with anticipation. Was her data right? Had she figured out the formula needed to create a machine for interspatial travel?

_"Don't get your hopes up yet. The first one exploded the first few top floors of Stark Tower."_ Jane winced at that. _"The second test was more contained; only one floor was destroyed. The third one, the charm, did not explode."_ Jane was about to remark about how potential that sounded, when he continued, _"It burst into flames. No big deal. The heated metal melted through several floors; it was like an interesting game of hot potato only the potato was like burning magma."_

Jane couldn't hold back her groan this time. Those tests sounded awful. "Tony, I'll have to run more data-"

_"You didn't let me finish. There were four tests."_

"Oh, no. Please spare me the details…"

_"The fourth one opened a worm hole."_

Jane's breath hitched. Her mouth tried to form words, but speaking suddenly became difficult. "A… a worm… wormhole?" she sputtered. "It opened a worm hole?" Suddenly she felt dizzy like her head would spin forever. This wasn't real.

_"For a second. Jarvis told me that for a millisecond there was a perfectly formed wormhole. Then the thing fell apart and all the electricity went out."_

Jane barely heard anything after 'For a second.' It's all she needed to hear. Tony created a prototype that opened a portal. A prototype using her notes and her research. This changed everything. The pane of glass has been smashed clean through.

When she heard Tony's voice again, he was congratulating her.

_"You are officially the proud mother of wormhole-opening devices. I'd say, after subtracting all the work I put into creating prototypes, you can take 12% credit."_

Her eyebrows shot up at that. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What? I did all the research! What do you mean 12%? That's a complete-"

She stopped when Tony let out an unfitting yelp and muttered, _"Pepper! Pepper, I was joking!"_

Jane scrunched up her face as she pressed the phone closer. The CEO in question could be faintly heard in the background, scolding Tony, _"I can't believe… again… I thought you were done with that… you're being a total… apologize…"_ It clicked as she went on. Tony was teasing Pepper indirectly through her. Typical.

A minute passed before Tony finally came back. _"Pepper's abusing me,"_ he told Jane matter-of-factly.

"I'm sure you're on your best behavior."

_"Definitely. Just earned my halo. Going to get wings installed soon."_

"Was that before or after you blew up a government military fighter jet?"

_"Hey! That's classified information! And for the record, I didn't blow it up. I fired my plasma blaster and it happened to be in the way. How do you even know about that?"_

Jane allowed a smirk. "You're not the only one with access to private files."

Silence ate up the phone line. _"Bruce,"_ Tony muttered. _"Why did he-!"_

Tony's voice cut off as someone yanked the phone from Jane's grasp. "Hey!" She spun around, seeing an unimpressed Darcy holding the phone firmly. "Give that back!" She moved to grab it, but Darcy threw it into the piles of junk before she could. "Darcy," she seethed.

"Oh, please, it was only Tony," the intern shrugged. Grasping Jane's wrist, she began to drag her out. "Come on! You said you were taking a break! Tony is work related!"

Try as she might, Jane couldn't wrest her hand from the woman - she was surprisingly strong – but she kept protesting this absurdity regardless. "You can't just grab someone's phone like that! What if it was life or death? That was so thoughtless! Darcy, sometimes you're too-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Darcy waved her hand as she pulled Jane through the door almost effortlessly. "Come on, Boss Lady, you're taking a break."

/

/

Jane sat uncomfortably at the counter Darcy insisted on. She had wanted to sit near a window, but her intern was having none of that – "Darn it, Jane, a window seat, really? The sky's right there! Don't think I don't know what you're doing! The sky is also work related. Come here, we're sitting away from the windows." – and so they sat down, backs to the skyline. The stools at the counter were slightly too tall for her; her toes barely touched the floor when she pointed her feet down, making the seat more uncomfortable than it already was with its thinly padded top, which no matter how she moved, made her back ache. How in the world did Darcy consider going to a diner and sitting on stools like this relaxing? Tossing a sideways glance at her intern, she saw that the woman was rapidly punching keys on her phone screen. She groaned inwardly. Of course, Darcy was only playing games on her phone. What else would she be doing after getting out of work? No. Jane reprimanded herself. She needed this, too. She visualized her room and its state of decay. She needed this. So be it that what she needed was a ratty, old stool; a barely lit, haze-filled dinner; and a hostess with a lazy eye.

When the hostess came to take their orders, Darcy surprised Jane when she practically ordered half the menu. "What?" The intern noticed the stare she was receiving, but only shrugged. "I'm hungry, alright? I skipped breakfast."

"Skipped breakfast?" Jane asked, incredulous. "I saw you wolf down three pieces of French toast and you're telling me you suddenly crave six cheeseburgers, three fries, a hot dog and two large pops?"

"You forgot my side of hash browns."

Jane gawked a moment more before throwing her hands up in defeat. "Whatever. You eat what you eat." She threw another pointed look. "By the way, in some places, it's considered extremely rude to steal people's phones."

Darcy barely noticed this time. "I didn't steal your phone. It's in your room."

"You still interrupted my conversation with Tony. We were discussing-"

"Work," Darcy said, suddenly turning her head to give Jane a look. "For weeks on end, ever since Tony got you the information on that freak show that tried to take over earth, you've been working yourself ragged. You barely come outside – in fact, this might be the first time – and you haven't socialized with people outside of me and Eric in weeks." She leaned close and whispered, "Jane, I didn't want to tell you, but once when I came to your place, I found you passed out on the couch with half a donut stuck to your face and files clutched in your hands. I'm still not convinced you really ate that donut. There hadn't been a donut box in your place for a week."

Jane could only stare. That was certainly a wakeup call. Darcy, though Jane wanted more than anything to immediately reject every word she said, was right. About everything. In the first week that followed after Loki's defeat, she was more than ecstatic that Thor would be staying. She had begun showing him more Midgardian culture and that had been fun. However, after he explained to her Loki's arrival was due to a wormhole, she needed to get her hands on that data and once Tony gave it to her she flew back into work mode, holding herself up in her lab. Her closest companions became Eric and Darcy; Thor she barely saw since he agreed to help S.H.I.E.L.D. with whatever those guys were doing. She sat up straighter, realization dawning on her. She had no idea what Thor was doing. Sure he stopped by to check up on her and they would talk briefly – Jane winced inwardly – but they hadn't sat down and really talked in weeks – months? – and now, realizing that, Jane felt like a jerk. How could she keep ignoring Thor? Well, yeah, she was working on creating a Bi-Frost. Jane stopped that thought before it was even fully formed. That wasn't fair to Thor – it's not his fault she was absorbed with her work. Absorbed - she mentally rolled her eyes. Absorbed was one word, obsessed was another. Chancing a glance at Darcy, who was still staring at her with that you-know-I'm-right-admit-it-already expression, Jane reluctantly began nodding. "Okay. Fine, I've been working way too much," she snipped. "But, that doesn't mean taking people's phones is okay."

Darcy ignored the last part. "See? I'm right. Now sit back and relax."

Resignation was the only option Jane had at this point, so she slumped down in her stool. The food arrived soon after; Darcy's portion looked like a grand feast for a troupe of war heroes. Jane didn't bother masking it; she stared openly at her intern. "What in the world is all this?" she asked, baffled after the sixth plate was set down on the counter, piling around them. "I was here when you ordered! You didn't order all this!"

"I may have ordered a thing or two more," she turned her head to the side. "When you weren't paying attention."

"Darcy," Jane hissed. "How are you going to afford this much food?" She eyed three platefuls of pancakes. "How are you going to eat this much food?"

The intern shrugged. "Well, it's not like it's going to be a secret forever, so I might as well tell you not all of this is really for me."

Jane opened her mouth to ask what she meant, but was interrupted by the sound of distant thunder. That didn't make any sense; the skies were clear when they arrived. Jane began to turn to look behind her through the window, when Darcy's hand shot out and clasped her shoulder, prompting her to look at the woman.

"What did I tell you? Windows equal skies; skies equal work. No work."

Jane brushed off that comment. "Who is all this food for?"

Coyly pushing her fries around with a fork, Darcy pursed her lips and didn't reply.

"Darcy? Who's all this food for?"

As she was about to ask again, the bell to the diner's door rung and a smile spread across the intern's face. Jane looked up and her breath caught in her throat. Thor was in the diner. Thor was in the diner. She instantly smiled and got up to greet him. "Hey," she called as she neared him. Thor turned and as soon as he saw her, his face lit up with the most adorable smile and goodness, Jane decided she needed to let Darcy 'let her take a breather' more often.

"Jane, it is so good to see you," Thor remarked as Jane happily wrapped her arm around his and began leading him to the counter they were seated. Then he quickly added, "Out of the house, too. That's rare."

Jane shot him a look, but saw that he was still beaming and realized he was making a jest. Even so she certainly couldn't help, but take the reminder to heart. "Yeah, well, you know, it has all of the essentials." She paused, shrugging as they sat down, Thor on her right and Darcy on her left. "Like food, for example."

"Food can be found outside of your house," he gestured around them. "Here, for example."

"No, it's not the same."

"Variety's good for you."

Jane shook her head. "But I have to drive here. At home I can walk into the kitchen and grab something."

Thor laughed and Darcy started handing down plate after plate to him as she looked at Jane and said, "You're welcome." Jane looked at her with raised eyebrows and she explained, "I set this up. You know, so sing my praises."

"When did you set this up?"

"Remember those times I was playing on my phone the past few days?" She jerked her thumb towards herself. "I was actually texting Thor to get him to come here."

Jane scrunched up her face. "Text?" She turned back to Thor. "You text now? When did you get a phone?"

"Tony had given me one a week ago." He furrowed his brow apologetically. "I should have told you sooner, but I didn't want to interrupt your work."

Darcy chimed in, "Yeah, when you're in the 'zone,' no one can reach you."

Jane frowned. Here she was being forced – maybe tricked – into spending time away from her lab and Thor wasn't mad, though he rightly should be. Weeks, she's been in her own little world for weeks and he doesn't blink an eye at it. Sour thoughts about how he had her wait a year sprung up at the back of her mind, but she quickly squashed them out because that wasn't exactly fair. "Thor, I'm sorry. I haven't-"

"It's fine, Jane. Your work makes you happy and that is good." He took a bite of his pancakes before asking, "Why don't you tell me about it?"

"Hey. No work," Darcy wagged her finger at Jane.

Thor shook his head. "No, it is important to Jane." His gaze softened as he looked fondly at the woman beside him. "I want to hear about it."

Jane smiled appreciatively. "Okay, but then I want to hear about all that you've been doing."

Soon she related all of her progress and findings. She concluded with Tony's tests, getting excited when she started explaining the fourth one.

"Can you believe it? It opened up a wormhole!" Jane motioned with her hands as she tried to form the image out of thin air. Darcy stopped paying attention and was on her phone again. The intern momentarily perked up while Jane explained the explosions and fiery game of 'hot potato,' but as the conversation tuned back to science do-dads, Darcy tuned out and started up one of her games. Jane tilted her head up to see Thor's expression and was surprised to see the uncharacteristic calculating glint in his eyes; his smile had diminished. "Thor? What's wrong?"

His brows knitted in mild concern. "Are you sure opening up wormholes will be safe?"

Jane knew where he was going with this. He was thinking about the wormhole that opened up over New York and frankly, so was she. Hostile aliens were a hefty risk. But, Jane was confident that wouldn't happen and assured Thor. "Tony and I aren't just trying to rip open holes in space at random. With correct calculations, we're working on opening a gateway to Asgard."

Thor blinked. "Travel to Asgard is already possible."

Jane floundered, trying to find the right words. "Thor, that's not the point."

"Then what is?"

Hands clasped, taking a quick breath, she gathered her thoughts carefully, trying to piece together the reasoning into words. Sitting there, definitely looking like an idiot while holding up her hands, trying to force words into existence by sheer will, Jane finally figured a way to word it. "I want to know how it works." As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew it was true. Yes, she wanted to create her own way to Asgard, but even more she wanted to understand how such a mode of transportation existed, how it functioned, how it could be powered. "It's what I always want to do. When I see something that I don't know much or blank zero about, all I want is to get my hands on all the files and articles on it and learn the ins and outs of it. There are no Bi-Frosts here; there are no articles, not a lot anyway. So, I have to, you know, scrap together the few pieces of information I have and see if I can understand it." She still had her hands held up and quickly slapped them down in her lap when she noticed. Now she was looking at Thor, waiting for his reaction. He wasn't reacting. He was smiling. Beaming. Oh, no, what did she say? Does he think everything she said was funny?

"Jane, that is a wonderful reason to pursue your work," he said, smiling in a way she now realized was kind and not mocking as she had come to expect from anyone listening to her work. She should've known better when it came to Thor.

Her lips lifted upwards on their own accord as she simply couldn't help, but smile back at him. "You think so?"

Thor nodded. "Yes. Your conquest for knowledge is admirable. It reminds me..." he trailed off, stopping himself short from saying what he was really thinking.

"Reminds you of what?"

Thor shook his head, banishing an unbidden memory of a dark haired boy tailing after him and put on a more convincing smile. "It's not important."

Jane shrugged, thinking that if he said it was nothing then it was nothing and she shouldn't pry. Instead, she asked him about what S.H.I.E.L.D. had him doing.

There wasn't much to be told - a lot of what S.H.I.E.L.D. had him doing was help investigate a disturbance in some far away desert. Nothing much was known about it thus far. Even so, he had been sent along with Bruce and of course accompanied with many other agents to check in on the potential threat. It really wasn't much, but when he told it, he might as well have been telling her an amazing adventure with pirates, a missing artifact and booby traps. Jane didn't know why, but when Thor spoke, he was so enthralling. "Son of Coul tells me that he doesn't think there should be too much trouble, but until they figure out what is happening there, they wanted the Avengers to stay in contact."

Jane grimaced. "Just try to be careful."

Thor grinned. "Jane, I'm an Asgardian. It takes a lot to harm me substantially."

Jane sighed. "I know. Just don't forget that you may be Asgardian, but that doesn't make you invincible."

"It kind of does," Darcy commented.

Jane ignored her. "Just don't get reckless."

Thor saw how worried she looked and finally nodded, telling her seriously, "I will be careful." He took a slow breath, deciding now would be a good time to tell her. "Jane, there is something I've wanted to tell you."

She swallowed, her throat feeling suddenly dry. He never looks that serious. This had to be important. When she trusted her voice enough, she asked, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Thor grinned softly, but it did not reach his eyes. "Nothing is wrong." He hesitated, pushed aside his doubts and continued. "I am returning to Asgard. But only for a quick visit," he added hastily when her eyes nearly popped out of her head in surprise. She minutely relaxed when he said, quick, but she still looked unsure. "I will only be gone for a week. I only want to see how everyone is faring."

Thor had been debating whether or not to go through with his question, but as he watched her soft brown eyes stare up at him, he couldn't believe he'd ever have to wonder. "Jane, come to Asgard with me."

"You what?" Jane sat there, stunned into silence.

Thor grinned at her, finding her stunned silence amusing since the astrophysicist usually couldn't stop talking once she started. "I can take you to Asgard with me." He asked, "Will you come with me?"

Jane's mouth flopped open in barely contained shock. The answer was on the tip of her tongue when a strange buzz interrupted her. She registered that it was Darcy's phone and shot Thor an embarrassed look.

Darcy answered it. "Hello?" She waited a beat and then slowly swiveled her head to give Jane the stink eye. "It's for you."

Jane tried to ask 'who,' but Darcy shoved it into her hand.

"Um," she checked the caller. It was Tony. "Hello?"

_"Hey, what happened? Bad connection?"_

"I'm sorry about earlier. My intern was being rude." Jane turned her head sharply in Darcy's direction, and the woman only smiled.

_"Is that her way of telling you to quit working?"_

"That's her way of saying I need to stop falling asleep with a donut stuck to my face," Jane blurted out, the memory fresh and disturbing. Next to her, Thor was wrinkling his brow, and Darcy smiled harder.

_"What?"_ Jane opened her mouth to answer, but he continued. _"Never mind. Old news. Listen. Bi-Frosts."_

A baby near her started wailing and the noise was starting to become overwhelming. "Tony, hang on a sec." She lowered the phone. "I think I have to take this somewhere more private."

Darcy was a hawk and turned to Jane in a flash. "It's about work, isn't it?"

Jane froze with a deer-in-the-headlights daze. Her eyes flickered from Thor whom had an understanding smile and Darcy whom was prepping to grab her phone. Jane threw her hands up. "Oh, just let me take this!" She narrowly dodged a snaked hand from Darcy and hurried to a secluded area of the dinner.

"Yeah? Tell me more about that fourth test. How long was it open? What were the readings?" Jane asked in a rush.

_"I'll get to that. I'll tell you tomorrow."_

"Tomorrow?" she exclaimed, ready to protest. "No. Not tomorrow. I need to hear about it now."

_"Hearing is one thing; seeing is another."_

"What do you mean?"

_"Keep your schedule open, I'm coming over and bringing a prototype."_

Jane could have fainted from all the blood running from her face as she paled. "You're what?"

_"It's your lucky day - I'm swinging by with Jarvis and the equipment. You'll be able to see firsthand a wormhole baby."_ He paused before asking, _"Does your place have backup generators? Never mind, I'll bring some."_

Jane wasn't sure how to answer this. She hadn't expected this at all.

_"Jane? Hello? Did your intern steal the phone again?"_

"You're coming here?" she finally managed to get out.

_"Yeah, I have it all set up; I'll be flying out there in the AM. Watch out for a streak of red. Not a literal streak. I'll be there ridiculously fast though."_

"Uh, um, can't, isn't..."

_"Hmm? What? Is there a problem? Is tomorrow not good?"_ In a lower voice he asked, _"I'm not going to walk in on a naked Thor or something, am I?"_

"No!" Jane blurted out a little too loud to her embarrassment. Her face bloomed scarlet as some diner residents stared at her. Fortunately, Thor and Darcy were still eating their meals and hadn't noticed. "No, Tony." She hissed in a low voice, "He doesn't even live with me. And that's none of your business."

_"Calm down, Star Gazer, I was only joking."_ As an afterthought, he added, _"Kind-of."_

Disaster was dancing on her doorstep now. Asgard. She could go to beautiful, unreachable Asgard. No more dreaming. The real deal. In the snap of her fingers, she could be there; Thor could take her. She had to tell Tony, no. She had to tell him to come back after she has been to Asgard. The whole explanation was on the tip of her tongue – all she had to do was tell him that she had been invited to one of the most exclusive human opportunity in all its history and that Bi-Frosts could wait another day. She frowned. Bi-Frosts. Those weren't a dream anymore, either. She was on the cusp of inventing her very own and with Tony's help she could take herself to Asgard. Her mind was reeling. "Tony? I, uh, can I call you back? I need to talk to Thor."

There was a pause. _"Alright, that's not a straight answer, but okay. Tell Point Break I said, 'hi'."_

"Will do." Punching the 'end call' button, Jane maneuvered back to her seat. Handing Darcy the phone, she turned to Thor and muttered, "Tony says, 'hi'."

He watched her carefully, raising a brow. "That's all he said?"

Shrugging, Jane tried to piece together the right words so that what she said next wouldn't be considered rejection. She decided to work her way around it and somehow loop back to it. "Um, can I ask you why you're going back to Asgard?"

Darcy snorted. "You're not saying, 'no.'"

Jane stiffened. Darn intern could see through seven-foot enforced steel if she wanted. Under Thor's concerned gaze and Darcy's incredulous disbelief, Jane semi crumbled. "Tony says he can come to my lab tomorrow with one of the prototypes." She inwardly winced at Thor's disappointed face when she added, "I really want to be there." She hurried to continue. "I want to go to Asgard, too. That is at the top of my list of things I want to do, but this is my life work." Deflating, she sighed. "I really want to go to Asgard. But, everything I've been researching and chasing after has led up to this crucial moment. Tony got the machine to produce a wormhole, albeit tiny and cost all of his electricity, but he had done it! I'm so close now." Realizing her voice was pleading, Jane straightened up to appear less petulant than she felt. Finding Thor's deep blue eyes, she stared into them gently. "You go to Asgard. And I'll be close behind." That was a lot heftier a task than she let on. Although Tony succeeded, they were a long way off from travel across space.

Thor, though reluctantly, conceded. "If this is what you want."

Oh, sheesh, why did he have to go and say it like that? Jane felt like falling apart at the seams. "It's not that." She was interrupted by the touch of his hand on her shoulder. His hand was warm and comforting; she realized that he wasn't mad at her for deciding to stay and that lifted her spirits tremendously. She returned his bright smile. "I will be right behind you, so to speak. In a matter of days." Her nose scrunched up. "Okay, in a matter of a few more weeks. Maybe."

Thor only grinned more and told her softly, "I'll be waiting."

"It's still pretty early," Jane began.

"Early?" Darcy was ignored.

"Maybe we could hang out for the rest of the day."

Thor nodded, smiling at her. "Yes, and you can show me more about Midgard and this elusive 'Cube of Rubix' I've been hearing about."

Darcy didn't hide her snorting laughter and Jane tried masking hers by smiling harder.

"Yeah," Darcy giggled. "Tell him all about the 'elusive cube.' In fact, he can try mine. It's on the table."

Thor stared at her, perplexed. "Darcy has the Cube of Rubix?"

Jane shook her head, smiling as she thought of other 'Midgardian' items to show Thor.


	3. Extraterrestrial Candlestick

 

Thor stood idly by the Bi-Frost site as he waited for Heimdal to open the bridge. The day had been wonderful. Everything was with Jane. First, she showed him the cube of Rubix, which was annoying and not at all as mysterious as he originally perceived. Tiny Pockets of Hot were his new favorite Midgardian food item - Darcy had shown him those. Jane protested, saying they weren't good for anyone, but the spunky brunette persisted until he had some. They were delicious and reminded him of something similar from home – he was surprised Jane thought he would not like them. As he remembered their meaty flavor, he decided he would have to remember to obtain the recipe for Asgard, as he had done with waffles. The first time Jane made him waffles was shortly after he first came to Midgard. She had retrieved them from her 'fridge' and put them in a strange, metal contraption that seemed like nothing, but a complete waste of space, which only purpose was to give by-passers heart attacks when it randomly shot the waffles back out. Then she explained that he didn't have to destroy it because its real purpose was to heat up the waffle. Afterwards, he decided he liked what she called the 'toaster' and used it frequently to heat up many things. Jane would always smile when he told her he 'cooked' something with it.

Thor grinned, remembering when she had asked for his help in the kitchen to bake a chicken. "Trust me," she had said. "It'll be fun. And I need a hand." That was the day Eric was going to come to her house and she was broken from her work trance for a week, getting everything ready. She fussed over every little thing. That was the first day he came to visit after… after New York. Thor's smile fell. No matter what he thought about, his thoughts always turned back to that disastrous time. Loki, his brother. What went wrong? While lost in thought, he felt the familiar pull and the flood of colors encased him.

/

* * *

/

When Thor stepped into the newly built observatory, a wave of familiarity crashed over him, brushing aside the dark thoughts from earlier. Everything he saw, though new, breathed 'home.' With its intricate structure and designs etched into siding, Thor felt for the first time in a long while that he was where he belonged. At least, for the moment. Jane still had a tie around his heart and that string had a feverously strong pull. As he stood in the golden gleam, a memory regarding a raven haired man telling him to think things through as they stood on a barren, frozen wasteland pricked at the back of his mind, but he pushed the memory away and returned to treading further into the observatory. Another few steps and a startling realization struck him. The room was as it should be: vaulted ceiling, the platform with the sword that turned on the Bi-Frost, however, something was missing. The something was glaringly obvious. A golden-eyed guardian was missing from his post.

Thor's fingers wrapped around the handle of his hammer as he tensed up, preparing to leap into action at a moment's notice. Taking a tentative step, readying for surprise ambush, he called, cautiously, "Heimdal?" He edged towards the platform, noting a small, round object. As his eye caught the gleam of gold, he threw away all caution and ran to the platform, calling, "Heimdal!"

On the platform, abandoned, was an object familiar to Thor. Something he rarely saw without its owner underneath it. The golden, curved helmet was unmistakable. Picking it up with care as if it would shatter at his touch, Thor lifted it and examined the discarded helmet. A thin flash of white glinted in the light and he found a tiny scratch on the brow. Thor set the helmet back down slowly, stood up and tried to discern what had happened. The guardian had lost his helmet – in a fight? – and disappeared. His eyes scanned the area briefly. There were no signs of struggle. Had the guardian opened the bridge, and then left, leaving his helmet behind? No, that made no sense. Why would he leave after opening the bridge? And without his helmet? If he had opened the bridge and simply left then he should be nearby.

Thor walked towards the pathway leading to Asgard and called for the guardian again. Silence. Wariness set in as the probability of Heimdal having opened the gateway slipped away and the dreadful thought of just 'who' opened the gate poured in. He had to get to the palace. Father would know what was happening. Thor stopped mid-step. And if his father didn't know? If his father didn't know of this, then it was utmost importance that he was told. Thor hastened his step.

Standing at the palace entrance, Thor was ill at ease. Walking through Asgard proved not to quell his growing anxiety, but strengthen it. Not a soul lingered in the streets. No one at all was around. There were no people busy selling wares, no children running around, no one. Silence. Absolute, pure silence. Everywhere it spread like a disease. He couldn't escape it. Thor's grip was steel tight on his hammer's handle as he strode hastily into the throne room, calling, "Father!" Silence fell like searing ash on his ears. The throne room was empty.

Panic seized Thor, but he pressed it down, reasoning that there was an explanation for this. There had to be. But, would it be a good one or a bad one? He swallowed thickly, beginning to trek through the halls, suddenly more than relieved that Jane decided to stay back on Midgard. Where it was safe. From whatever this was. Thor quickened his steps as he searched through the halls and rooms for someone, anyone who was there, but no one showed their face. His steps halted abruptly as a familiar voice chimed in his ears.

"Hello, _Brother_. Nice of you to visit." The term of endearment was spat as if the word were poison desired to be rid of.

Thor pivoted towards the voice, hammer raised. "Loki?" His eyes darted across the golden columns. No one. "Loki, where are you?" In a stronger voice, he asked, "Where is everyone? What has happened?"

A click of the tongue echoed through the halls faintly from above, from below, from side-to-side; Thor could not tell where his brother's presence came from. "That's just like you, Thor. Late to the party."

Thor felt his face tighten. He swung out his hammer. "You call _this_ a party? What did you do?"

A harsh laugh answered him. "Why, Thor, I'm flattered you think this is my doing. I can't take credit for this masterpiece though."

Patience was wearing thin as Thor gritted his teeth in restrained frustration. Only recently had he been able to maintain his anger and that was only on occasion. This wasn't going to turn into one of those occasions. "Loki, no games. Tell me what has happened here. Where is Father?"

"Is that my father or your father?"

" _Our_ father. Where is he, Loki?"

"Because mine is dead and yours," he trailed off.

Thor knew he was only trying to nettle at him, but his patience was rapidly thinning. "Tell me or I will-"

"You'll what?"

There. Thor minutely pivoted to his right, but it was enough. In the shadow of the column he saw the flash of green. And blue. _Blue?_ Thor tried to focus his eyes on the colors, but as soon as he did, they were gone. The image remained burned into his head. Blue skin blended into shades of green cloth. In a slightly softer tone, he asked, "Brother, who has done this to you? What has happened to Asgard?" Something was wrong. Loki, he knew, hated his natural skin and would never willingly be in it. As he moved closer to where he had seen his brother, the shadows in the area seemed to shrink away.

"Don't come closer, Thor. Do not look at me."

Thor took a step, eyes straining to penetrate the darkness in hopes of catching sight of green or blue. "Brother, whatever has happened we can fix this. I can help you. Who has done this?"

The sudden desire to protect his brother flooded over him, but he quickly shoved the overwhelming feeling down and allowed rational facts to overshadow brotherly duty. Loki wasn't the same boy he grew up with, not the one who had shared in each other's comfort. Things were different now, he knew and bittersweet memories could not cloud his judgment in the matter. Stepping forward, his hand with hammer hovered hesitantly. "Brother, please, show yourself. We can work this out together." He voiced the words confidently, but underneath his earnest laid a thin layer of doubt. Above all else, he wanted to trust him. Deep down, he knew he couldn't.

A growl disrupted the air, sending chills down his spine. He realized a moment later that the temperature dropped. Flashes of blue warned him. On instinct he thrust the hammer forward. When it was over, the hammer hadn't left his outstretched fingertips.

Fragile minutes passed and Loki's grip on the casket was still firm. He barely budged from his spot. Taking a tentative breath, he realized his hands were shaking. Pushing down his unease, deep into the pit of his stomach, he straightened up and strode over to the block of ice that used to be Thor. He did not panic. He didn't. What was he holding? He glanced down. The ice casket was still in his hands. Flexing his fingers along the handles, he shuffled his hands in practiced movements and stored the ice casket away. Once it disappeared, he slapped his hands to his thighs, out of sight. His eyes trailed along the ice casing around Thor, studying the lines in his frozen face. Brow furrowed eternally in an aware confusion, lips parted in a silent plead. He paused his speculations. Plead? No. He narrowed his eyes and peered closer at his once-brother, noting how his lips were slightly parted. Not a plead. Plead for what? Aggravation, more likely. His body minutely relaxed, loosening the tension he hadn't realized he had as he came to this conclusion. Logically it was the only conclusion acceptable. Logic found, Loki vehemently denied the identification of hurt in his frozen eyes. Instead, he focused on transporting both of them to the dungeons where he would lock him away. He grinned. Cruel irony. Now he would be sentencing the same punishment meant for himself.

Pressing his palm to the block of ice, he focused on pulling energy from within his person and concentrated on the dungeon. There Thor would rot for the rest of his days. Much like the All-Father intended for _him_. A bitter grin curled his mouth. Odin's golden child. How would that old man react on seeing his precious son locked up where the light couldn't reach him? Loki bit back a snarl. Odin didn't bat an eye when _he_ was sentenced to the same punishment. What did he expect? He wasn't _Odin_ son. He shut his eyes and re-focused on the dungeons. Focus. That was going to bother him. His eyes flew open as a voice – it was vaguely familiar – thundered into his mind.

"This is not the way to handle this situation."

Loki's eyes glanced sideways in the general direction of the voice, not bothering to fully turn his head once he recognized who was lecturing him now.

"Don't do this."

Loki's face contorted into a wicked grin. "How are you to stop me now? In all your glory?" A laugh escaped his throat as he stepped closer to the block of ice that used to be his once-brother, and with practiced movement of his hands, the two vanished from the throne room.

/

* * *

/

The scene, no matter how often he stared at it, never ceased to fascinate him in a sort of macabre way. Thor stood, frozen solid in the middle of a cell in the palace's dungeons. Not knowing what to think of it, Loki remained to the side, staring, wondering, contemplating everything. Thor was captured. Just like that. After so much careful planning, so much painstakingly detailed plotting for his once brother's downfall in the invasion of Midgard, here he brought him down in the blink of the eye. Nothing about that was what caught his horrified fascination. What brought Thor down did. He looked down and immediately went back to staring at the block of ice. Blue. Hideous, ugly _blue_. His stomach clutched and his mouth filled with vile when realizing what truly brought down the almighty Thor. A casket. A casket from a disgusting, filthy race. The race whose skin he had the misfortune to wear.

Loki became faintly aware of the sound of tapping on the ground as something neared him, but he paid it no notice.

"Prince Loki," a voice came from his right.

His eyes didn't move from the block of ice.

"Prince Loki," the voice came again. Closer.

Loki didn't move. "What?" he finally asked, quietly. It was Fandral.

He paused. "Shouldn't you unfreeze him now? He won't be trouble in there."

He still didn't look away. "Later. What is it?"

"I was thinking about the curse."

Loki sighed.

"You need a ladylove."

"It's no use. No one will love me and I don't want anyone to. Leave me in peace."

Hesitant, Fandral began again, "Maybe someone could learn to love you." Another pause. "Maybe if she were to spend time here with you, she could fall for you."

Loki didn't find that to be very likely. No one, no matter the amount of time spent in his company, could love him. Not when he was a monster. His eyes flickered down momentarily, catching glimpses of blue. Wincing inwardly, he decided he couldn't stay in this skin any longer. Sighing, he asked, "Who do you have in mind?"

There was no hesitation this time. "Jane Foster."

Loki slowly took his eyes from the block of ice and faced him, having to look down. The man he was used to seeing was no more and in his place was a three-holder candlestick, two for arms, the middle his face embedded on candle wax. Seeing him was almost as disturbing as seeing blue. "You think Jane Foster, Thor's mortal love, is the one I should woo? That is the worst idea you have ever had." He turned away from him again.

Fandral hopped closer, persistent. "She knows of Asgard. I could go and convince her to come back."

"And why would she come willingly?" Loki sneered. He knew Fandral could in no way force her to come to Asgard and he, himself, couldn't leave the realm. The curse proved to be especially restricting on him.

Fandral pointed his candle towards the now occupied cell. "I have a feeling she'd be more than compelled to come here."

Loki glanced down at Fandral and then followed his gesture. The dungeons fell in silence as he considered Fandral's suggestion.

/

* * *

/

Jane didn't remember waking up, but she must have because she was sitting at her table, coffee in hand. Coffee? She took a glance at the mug and then whipped her head back to stare at it. When did she make coffee? She sighed, rubbing her temple. It was much too early for her. Tony insisted that she wake up to meet him well before any other living being was awake. Her eyes flickered to the time on the microwave and widened in surprise. 8 o'clock. Oh. She mentally winced, wondering why she felt so beat up. She knew why. She had a fitful sleep last night. Awakened more than once, she startled out of her dreams into the cold, harsh emptiness of her room. Reminding herself it was only a dream, she'd fall into another fit of tossing and turning. The dream was so vivid. Waiting outside one night in the desert at Thor's landing site, she was watching the sky, searching for signs of his return. Soon the night erupted in rainbow colors and the clouds began swirling. Jane waited anxiously for the Bi-Frost to open and when Thor stood before her, she ran to wrap him in her arms. But, something was wrong. Thor wasn't smiling. He looked confused. Jane realized it had something to do with her. When she looked down at her hands, she screamed out in horror. Her hands were wrinkled, like an old woman's. She had grown old in the time she spent waiting for him. Jane snapped out of her thoughts when pain dug into the palm of her hand. She relaxed her grip on her mug. It was only a dream.

_A very realistic dream_. She chided herself for the negativity. Thor would return. He promised. A smile spread across her face. Now she had a way to get to Asgard by herself. The makings of it anyway. About to bring her coffee mug to her lips, obscene rap music startled her into dropping it and splashing its contents over the table. She lifted her head and stared at the source, which was on the counter. Her phone. She really had to change that ringtone. Who would call so early? The answer registered before she finished the question. She sprung to her feet without a second thought and answered the phone, "Hello?"

Tony's voice boomed from the other side, _"Hey, Star Gazer. Sleep well?"_

"Not really," Jane admitted, groggily.

_"_ _No? You'd think having a god to sleep next to-"_

"He's not here," Jane rushed to cut him off. "I mean, he left yesterday. He doesn't- we don't- we barely dated-" she started stuttering, trying to set Tony straight on the matter.

_"_ _Whoa, calm down, Jane,"_ Tony interrupted. _"Don't blow a fuse. I was joking."_

"It's hard to tell with you, Tony. Now what did you call for?"

_"_ _Wow. Not even a 'how are you'. All business with you."_

"Tony," Jane warned. "What is it? Did something happen?"

_"_ _Nothing of import. I just need to push back our meetup. Turns out I can't make it until noon."_

"That's it?"

_"_ _Don't 'that's it,' me. You should consider yourself lucky. Usually, I don't call when I'm late."_

"Well, aren't I special," Jane teased. "Seriously, though, what did you break?" Nothing good could come out of Tony having to rearrange his schedule. The last time this happened, Tony had lost half the data and had to get it all back, which set back her work. This better not set back her work.

_"_ _That's not important. See you at noon."_

"What did you break?" Jane demanded.

_"_ _I didn't break anything,"_ Tony paused. _"Though if something about an explosion at Stark Towers somehow gets into the newspaper, I promise it has nothing to do with your work."_

"Oh, my god, Tony," Jane sighed.

_"_ _What can I say?"_ She could hear his smug expression oozing through the phone. _"Be there at noon. See you then."_

"Bye."

Placing her phone on the counter, she started towards her table, eyeing the coffee spilt all over it. The phone call was not worth it. As she went to grab a towel to clean it up, a beeping noise startled her. Was everything out to scare her senseless before she even properly woke up?

She found the noise. Her computer. Odd. Why would it be going off now? Glancing at the clock, she noted it was, in fact, eight in the morning, and wondered what her computer could be picking up so early in the day. Quickly walking over to it, she looked over the alert. Her heart stopped. Thor's landing site. The sky had the beginnings of a Bi-Frost tunnel. Coffee was left spilt on the table as she drove away into the desert.

/

* * *

/

Facing her truck, she began reciting all the constellations she knew from memory. Then she went over the events from this morning, recalling that she awoke from an unpleasant dream and made coffee. Tony called her; his call startled her into spilling coffee; Tony did something stupid and the meeting was pushed back. She remembered these things easily. Confident she had her mind in order, she took a deep breath and turned back to the Bi-Frost area. She mentally sighed. No. Still there. Placed right in the middle was a candlestick. As soon as she saw it, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her or she was losing her mind. What was a candlestick doing in the middle of the Bi-Frost site? Did Thor send it? If he sent it, why? Why a candlestick? Jane's head was rushing with a thousand questions a minute, trying to puzzle out this strange occurrence.

"Lady Jane."

Jane straightened up. Craning her head one way and then the other, she searched for the voice. "Who said that?"

"Down here, Lady Jane."

Glancing down, Jane felt her insides churn. She really was losing her mind. The candlestick, the Asgardian piece of furniture, now had a face she hadn't noticed a few seconds ago and it was speaking. The candlestick was _speaking_ _to her_. "You really lost it, Jane," she muttered.

"Lady Jane, it is I, Fandral," the candlestick proclaimed, taking a few hops towards her.

Jane took a few steps back. "What? What is this? Why are you talking? Candlesticks don't talk." She was pretty certain of that. Unless Asgardian ones did. "Did Thor send you?"

"Lady Jane, don't you remember me? When Loki sent the destroyer to your realm, I was one of the warriors that fought it. The very handsome one."

Jane did recall the other Asgardians who came down to find Thor. The name Fandral wasn't too familiar, but if what he was saying was true, then something definitely went wrong. Kneeling next to the candlestick, she studied his wax face. Even in this form, it was vaguely familiar. "What happened? Why are you here?" Panic swelled in Jane's chest as she realized something must have happened to Asgard. "Where's Thor?"

"Asgard," Fandral answered briskly. "He sent me to find you."

"Find me?" Jane asked in disbelief. "Why? What happened? What is this?" The more she studied the candlestick, the more she tried to figure out how this worked. How could someone be turned into an inanimate object?

"A curse has fallen on Asgard," Fandral explained. "Everyone has turned into furniture. No one knows how to lift the curse. Thor sent me to ask for your help."

Jane's eyes widened. "Everyone is furniture? How is that even possible?"

"I don't know, Lady Jane, but it is of utmost importance that you come with me right now and help solve this mess."

"Why didn't Thor come get me? Why did he send you?" Jane, though wanting to help, found this whole situation to be suspicious. Didn't Thor only leave yesterday? Now a candlestick claiming to be what's-his-name was here, telling her everyone was furniture?

"He is back in Asgard, rallying the citizens. They need him in this time of crisis. He sent me so he could stay and comfort the masses." Fandral began hopping back to the middle of the Bi-Frost site, waving a candle at her. "There is no time to waste."

Jane let out a slow breath. "Oh, my god," she said softly, not in an upset tone, but in one of understanding and acceptance. "I've lost my mind."

"What?" Fandral waved his candles at her. "Lady Jane, you are perfectly well. Now we must hurry."

Jane shook her head, connecting one thing with the other. "I had no sleep last night. I haven't had my coffee. This is all some weird, half-asleep illusion I'm having." She nodded, finding comfort in what little explanation she had. "That's it. I'm going to close my eyes and when I open them, you'll be gone." She squeezed her eyes shut, counted to three and then opened them. She groaned. He was still there. "This isn't real," she told him matter-of-factly.

"Usually when a beautiful woman is this naive, I would use that to my advantage, but as you can plainly see, there is no time for that. If we are to help Asgard, we must hurry."

Jane, seeing that this was all an illusion, didn't see the harm in humoring the candlestick. "Alright," she said as she stepped into the center. "But, none of this is real."

"Whatever you say," Fandral hopped next to her and called out for Heimdal.

The skies above them began darkening, swirling into the familiar Bi-Frost tunnel Jane has seen a few times now. It struck her how vivid her imagination was if it could conjure up this ridiculous story with a candlestick and Asgard. Strokes of color collided around her and a strong pull gripped her. Jane panicked. This felt real. "What is happening?" she demanded.

"Stay still," was all Fandral replied and was the last thing Jane was consciously aware of. In an instant, her entire being felt as if it was being thrown through light fractures, as if every particle was being tugged one-by-one. Then it stopped. Her head was spinning and it took a minute for her to find her feet, but they seemed to be under her. When the room stopped moving, she found herself hunched over on the ground. How did she get down here?

"Lady Jane."

Who was that? Jane closed her eyes, her head throbbing painfully in the back. All she wanted was to slip back to sleep and get through this weird dream.

"Lady Jane, are you alright? I was thoughtless. I should've taken into account that you are only mortal. The Bi-Frost seems to have taken a toll on you."

Warmth was near her face. What in the world was that? Jane faintly remembered her room being cold last night and wondered if she found something to warm her up. Opening one eye, she found the source. A lit candle. Candle? She opened both eyes and found a strange three-holder candlestick next to her, the three wicks lit and one of them bent at an odd angle, pointing at her. Then she noticed the waxy face in the middle candle and screwed her eyes shut. This was a dream. She was dreaming. Candlesticks don't have faces. Candlesticks don't talk. Candlesticks don't come from Asgard and talk about potential danger. That last one she wasn't sure about. She hadn't been to Asgard, so there was no way of knowing. She groaned.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked.

"When with me, Lady Jane, it's always a dream come true," the candlestick replied suggestively.

Oh, great, she mused. She was being hit on by a candlestick. She shifted, slowly propping herself up on her elbow, trying to ease herself out of the pounding headache. "Alright, what is going on?"

"Lady Jane," another voice sounded behind her.

When she looked over her shoulder, she couldn't see anyone else in the room. Speaking of room, where in the world was she? A beautiful, golden dome with designs she had never seen before arched above her. "Where am I?" she breathed in audible awe.

"Lady Jane," the second voice spoke. "You are in Asgard. I'm afraid under unfavorable circumstances."

"Asgard?" she looked back at the candlestick. "This isn't a dream?"

The candlestick sighed. "No, Lady Jane. This is unfortunately very real."

She rolled over onto her back, propping herself on both elbows and craned her neck to find that second person. "What? How? Someone please explain what is going on. And where are you?"

"I am right in front of you."

She squinted. All she could see was a platform with what looked like a discarded helmet and giant sword standing atop it. "Where?" she asked.

"You're looking at me."

Her eyes narrowed and then widened. She turned back to the candlestick. "He's not the…" her voice trailed off as she leapt to her feet. Slowly, carefully, as if any sudden movement would stir this scene she found herself and disintegrate it, she walked towards the platform, studying the sword. "Are you…?" When she was few inches from it, she started back. Two eyes and a mouth were on the hilt. "I've lost my mind…" she whispered.

"Beautiful darling," the candlestick hopped after her, following her close. "You have not lost your mind. You are very much not imagining this."

The sword spoke, startling her more. "Lady Jane, Asgard is in danger."

"Wh-what happened?" she stuttered, unable to look away from the sharp, metallic eyes.

"A mysterious figure, one not even I can see, infiltrated the throne room and placed a curse on all of the inhabitants. Thor escaped it by not being here. No one else was as lucky." The eyes carved in metal shone forlornly.

"What can I do?" Jane asked, still reeling from disbelief in the entirety of the situation.

"Thor is in trouble," the sword told her grimly. "I'm afraid his brother has locked him up."

"How? Loki's supposed to be in prison or something." None of this was adding up. Loki was taken weeks ago to be punished on Asgard.

"The figure laid the curse before Loki could be sentenced to his punishment." The sword explained.

"Thor has been captured?" The candlestick gasped beside her. "Then we must make haste, Lady Jane. Follow me – I can lead you to the dungeons and then we can free him."

Jane, having no idea what else to do, complied and tailed after the candlestick. Once they released Thor, he'd know what to do.

Heimdal, in stoic silence, watched the two leave and thought how terrible an actor Fandral made.

/

* * *

/

The city in all its gleaming, golden glory would've stunned Jane and she would have asked question after question about how every little thing and gadget she spotted worked. Now it made her uneasy. The city was huge, and the buildings were extravagant. Sights like these suggested people and that was it. There were _no_ people. The streets, paved and smooth to walk through, were deserted. Caravans, some with strange fruit, some with trinkets, littered the streets, abandoned as if everyone got up and fled all at once. Jane quickened her step, longing to find Thor and fix this whole mess.

"How much longer?" she asked her candlestick companion. Fandral. That was what he said his name was earlier.

"Almost to the palace," he informed, hopping a few feet in front of her.

They arrived shortly after. The palace, like the rest of the city, was huge, beautiful and overall shining in golden brilliance. But, like the rest of the world, it offered no comfort, only lonely hush.

"This way, Lady Jane," Fandral beckoned as he rushed down a hall. She paced behind him.

Curses weren't real. They couldn't be. Curses were the sort of superstition fanatic occult members and teenagers believed in. It had no solid scientific evidence. Like bad luck and good luck – there was no way to prove such things. Jane's head was spinning, trying to find the logic in it all. People couldn't be turned into furniture. If so, how? If possible, what kind of mad scientist would concoct such a large scale project on a city – _realm_ – of innocents? Why at all? What could the person possibly gain from something like this? The longer Jane tried to analyze the reasoning behind it, the more lost in thought she became. So lost, that she hadn't noticed when Fandral led her into a room full of what looked like cells with furniture inside.

"He must be around here somewhere," Fandral hopped down the row of cells, Jane close behind.

Jane saw him first. The last cell, standing to the side, was Thor. She ran to the containment. "Thor," she called.

He looked up and his eyes widened when he saw her. "Jane?"

As she approached, he stepped closer to the strange force covering the cell. "Thor, are you all right? What has he done?"

Thor's brow clouded with dismay as he watched her, coming as close to the force holding him back as he could without provoking it. "Jane, what are you doing here?" he asked urgently. "You are not safe here. You must go back to Midgard."

"I'm not leaving," she insisted. "Not until you're free and we can fix this 'curse.'" For lack of a better name, she simply called it what it was being referred to, not because she thought it true.

"No, Jane, you are in danger here." Thor couldn't believe how bad events were turning out. First Asgard was cursed, then his brother locked him away and now Jane wasn't safe at home, but in Asgard, where she could be hurt. He had to convince her to leave.

"Thor, I can get you out. Just tell me how to open this thing."

"I highly advise against that."

Jane didn't recognize that voice. She looked for Fandral, thinking it had been him, but found her candlestick companion was missing by her side. She squinted, trying to peer into the darkness that seemed to have suddenly swept around them. "Who's there?"

"Jane, get out of here," Thor demanded, but she stayed put.

"Show yourself," Jane said. If everyone was furniture, then what did she have to be worried about? She was fairly confident she could handle a chair or coffee table. Then she remembered that Thor – _Thor_ – was somehow forced into a dungeon cell. She tensed, waiting.

"You wouldn't want that," the voice replied.

Thor was still urging her to leave, but she was blocking him out, instead curious to see who was speaking. "Why not?"

"You'd be surprised."

The answer was lazy, bored as if the speaker grew tired of this conversation. Jane decided she didn't like the tone and wanted to show this voice up. "I've seen a lot of things. I'd be surprised if anything surprised me," she challenged.

There was a pause. "Very well."

The glow from the cell next to her glinted off pale blue as something emerged from the shadows.

Jane's breath caught in her throat. That wasn't a piece of furniture.


	4. Abhorred Agreement

 

Loki held his breath. The moments following his exposure were slow and dreadful. Her eyes - her shocked, frightened eyes - trailed over him as if he were a morbid display piece for all to see. He clenched his teeth. His eyes stayed fixed on the small woman, who became speechless at his presence. He shouldn't have, but he felt uncomfortable under her gaze. Judging him, accusing him. He swallowed hard, pushing down the uneasiness and grinned, knowing he exposed jagged, black teeth. "Jane Foster, what has caused the renowned astrophysicist to have gone mute?"

The woman shrunk back, not taking her eyes from him. She opened and closed her mouth like a gasping fish before any words came out. "Who are you?"

Loki wondered if he was that unrecognizable or if she hadn't seen any detailed photos of him invading Midgard. "Don't you recognize me?" he asked, stepping closer into the light, prompting her to take a step back and Thor to again insist she run, which she ignored. Loki found that last part interesting.

Leaning forward, she squinted as if trying to place him and then her eyes widened. "Loki." It was not a question. "I thought you were supposed to be furniture."

Furniture? His brow furrowed. He wondered how much Fandral told her as the woman clearly wasn't prepared for this. Not that he thought she would be under any amount of prepping. "What brings you to my humble abode?" he asked, switching subjects.

Jane didn't answer. Her eyes were fixated on him, on his everything, not focusing on a single area. "Have you…?" She stopped. Then she started again. "Have you always looked like this?"

Loki consciously stopped himself from startling back. That was unexpected. What did she mean by that? The skin around his eyes tightened as he focused on her. Then he straightened up. She thought he wasn't affected by the curse. Perhaps she hadn't seen any photos of him. Loki couldn't decide if that was good or bad. "More importantly," he said, regarding her carefully. "what is the mortal woman, Jane Foster doing in Asgard?"

"I'm…" She fumbled her words and stopped, her face set in shock. Then she swallowed and a stronger resolve passed over her. "I'm here to help Asgard. With this curse," she added as an afterthought.

Loki shook his head. "There's nothing you can do."

Her fear melted away the longer they spoke like an iceberg drifting into warmer waters. "How about you start by releasing Thor?"

Loki scoffed, smiling bitterly. The mortal and her god. "He's no use in or out of the cell." He turned from her, beginning to ascend back into the shadows. "And neither are you."

He took slow steps, one after the other as he directed his hearing behind him, detecting the woman's subtle movements. A faint breath. Her feet scuffled. She was watching his retreating form, he knew it. There were no options for her to take. It was only a matter of time. His shoulders and upper back were cast in shadow and he began to feel a stab of doubt, when she called after him.

"Wait."

He halted, but did not turn.

She hesitated. "Let Thor go…" Her voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. Another faint breath. "Let Thor go and take me instead."

Loki grinned, relaxing. There it was. That was what he wanted to hear. The imprisoned man let out a cry of protest, but he went ignored as Loki pivoted on his heel and faced the woman who was standing defiantly, every ounce of her in rebellion against him. That would change, he reasoned. She would learn. He only needed time. Five years. The prospect was a blink to him. It would have to do.

"Jane, no," Thor pleaded, frantic. "You can't do this. Do not take my place."

She didn't look at him. Instead her sole focus was on the monster in front of her. In the back of his mind, Loki wondered what her thoughts of him were. Ugly. Hideous. Unworthy. What else would she think? _You are unlovable._ Loki clutched his jaw to hold back more of a reaction. A voice, thin and whispery, shot through his mind. The owner of it, he couldn't clarify. _You will always be cursed. You are a monster._ He swallowed thickly, forcibly pressing that voice to the back of his mind and realigned his thinking back to her offer. She stood, waiting. "What are you asking?" His face fell into a mask once he faced her and he was careful not to let a hint of triumph color his features. "You think I would give up Thor's capture for yours?"

The woman's demeanor faltered. That wasn't the best thing he could say. He wanted her to believe this was her idea, but he didn't want her to doubt too much. He was thinking of what he could say to amend this, when she spoke again. "Banish him to Earth, uh – Midgard – and, and keep me here…" The next words that fell from her mouth must have been the hardest thing for her to say. He could see the line where she set her jaw. "As your prize," she finished. Once the words were out, she flushed, but her determination remained fiery in her eyes. She muttered, "What better way to taunt him." The 'him' was implied and Loki knew exactly who she was talking about.

Thor cried out in denial, but remained ignored. Jane shuffled her feet uncomfortably. Her eyes locked in front of her.

Loki forced back the grin attempting to break free and maintained his neutral expression. He tapped a finger against his lips, making a show of pondering. His mind was made up from the time he set eyes on her in front of Thor's cell. "I accept this offer."

"Release him."

Clever girl, Loki mused, stepping closer to her. "I will once I know he won't put up a fight."

Thor glared at him. "Why would I let you send me to Midgard willingly?"

It happened in a blink. Jane didn't register what happened until it was over and her back was flushed against something icy. Cold pressed delicately against her throat. Loki had an arm encaging her middle. A knife glinted in his other hand.

"I can give you a good reason," Loki replied coolly.

"Let her go," Thor demanded.

The anger on his once-brother's face did little to sway him. If anything, it furthered his amusement. "Thor, if you would only come quietly…"

Thor's face clouded in fury, but he made no other comment. He lifted his hands in a sign of resignation. Loki grinned, loosening his grip on Jane, but kept her in his arms. "That's better."

Loki lowered the cell's energy field, allowing Thor to saunter out. He moved with Jane, placing her where Thor had stood moments ago. When he let her go, she struck her hand at him, but he pulled away in time and turned the energy field back on. Eyes burning, she seared him with her glare. He forced his mouth to remain flat. That would change. He needed time. Now he would have that. Facing Thor, he waved his hands over the man's wrists, smirking at his surprise. "In case you thought to be brave and try something."

Enchanted handcuffs held Thor's wrists together. "Loki," he muttered.

Loki waved his hand dismissively as he began walking towards the exit. "They'll fall off once you reach Midgard. They're only a precaution."

Thor stepped towards the cell and Jane smiled at him sadly. "I'll be okay," she said quietly. In a softer tone, she added, "Do what you can on Midgard. I'll see what I can do here." She almost opened her mouth to tell him three words she had been meaning to say, but never knew if the time was right. She decided now would be the time. But, as she was about to, Loki interrupted.

"Are you going to stand there and rot or move already?" he hissed, narrowing his eyes at them.

Thor tossed his head in his direction before softening his gaze on Jane. "I'll be back for you." Without another word he followed Loki out of the dungeons.

"You've said that before," she murmured to no one. His red cape was the last she saw of him. Then she was alone.

/

* * *

/

"Loki."

"No."

"Talk to me."

" _No_."

"What has happened?"

Loki wouldn't listen to Thor as he led him to the Bi-Frost. Matching stride for stride, Thor paced next to him, determined to get him to explain the situation. But, Loki's mouth was clamped firmly shut, save for a word or two of refusal.

"What about Jane?" he insisted. "Why must you use her against me?"

Loki tilted his chin minutely, letting those questions mull around his head. The answer was clear. She was a means to an end. Hurting him was a bonus. Thor didn't have to know that. The entrance of the Bi-Frost loomed over them as they approached.

"Heimdal," Loki called.

Thor searched the observatory with his eyes, confused. "Heimdal?"

"Hidden in plain sight," Loki said as way of explanation as he stepped onto the platform.

Thor faced him, his eyes a torrent of emotion. Loki identified several key emotions warring for dominance: anger, sadness, defiance. He dismissed a fourth one, deciding he misread it.

"Loki, if you hurt Jane…"

"Do not worry, Thor," he assured him. "Your mortal is in fine hands." He smirked, reveling in the double meaning his words had. His final taunt. He would let Thor make whatever he could of that.

Thor's face twisted into startled horror. Before he could voice protest, the bridge opened and grabbed hold of him, dragging him realms away from his mortal.

"The curse demands a willing heart."

Loki glared at the hilt of the sword in front of him. "She _will_ love me," he growled in determination.

Heimdal blinked his metallic eyes slowly. "I did not say she wouldn't."

Loki stepped closer, holding out his hands as a green glow encased them. "Do not open the Bi-Frost for anyone." Once he cast a spell that would force the guardian to obey him, he pivoted and headed towards the palace, intent on retrieving the mortal from the dungeons. She wouldn't warm up to him right away, that was for sure, but he would have to begin somewhere. Now rather than never, he supposed.

Heimdal, as he observed the prince's cape, thought it funny that Loki was convinced he needed to put the guardian under an enchantment to keep the Bi-Frost closed. Little did the prince know that he wouldn't have opened it, not for a single person.

/

* * *

/

In the shadows of the dungeon, a candlestick lingered as he watched the cell now occupied with the mortal woman. Frail, weak in the physical sense. She would never measure up to the strength and vitality of the Æsir women. A disease, a short fall, a stiff breeze could cause her to perish. She was their only hope.

" _Traitor_."

Fandral rolled his eyes as he heard the _clink_ of a teapot hobble its way next to him. He didn't know until that moment that a teapot could sound angry while shuffling. "Lady Sif. So nice of you to join me. Where has your loveliness been hiding?" The strong, powerful woman warrior being transformed into a near defenseless piece of delicate kitchenware never ceased to be amusing. He knew it vexed her incessantly.

"Hold your traitor tongue," she hissed. "How can you assist _him_? After all he's done."

Without taking his eyes from the cell across from them, he replied, "Sif, has anyone ever told you that anger does not become you?"

She scowled. "What you've done is dishonorable. You tricked the mortal into coming here and now she's subject to whatever tortures his sick mind can conjure up."

"Out of everyone, I thought you'd be most pleased to have your competition out of the way."

Maneuvering a body made of glass, let alone a limbless, rounded body, was difficult in every move. She made the effort to sit beside him and rotate her face until it aligned with the side of his, so she could glare at his wax. "You are a despicable person, unworthy to be of Asgard."

Fandral finally looked at her, an unamused expression on his face. "Sif, I am not proud of my actions-"

"You shouldn't be."

" _But_ , I do not want to stay a candle for the rest of eternity. And if I were to guess, I'd think you wouldn't want to be stuck as a teapot." Sif's face relaxed minutely, but her resolve remained strong. He sighed. "Lady Jane won't be harmed. I'll see to it."

" _I'll_ see to it."

"We'll both see to it."

Sif was ready to say something more, when a chill in the air stopped her words short. The dungeon was one person more crowded. Loki approached Jane's cell.

Fandral placed his candle holder on Sif to stop her from shuffling after the prince. She glared at him. "Nothing will happen to her."

"Nothing will happen if I'm there to stop it."

"Loki wants this curse lifted as much as we do. Would he really jeopardize our chances by harming the only one who can possibly fix this?"

"He's unpredictable."

"We'll intervene if we must, but I don't know what you think you can do, Sif. You're not yourself anymore. You're a teapot." He looked at her pointedly. "You're a lot more breakable."

Sif glared at him and then sighed. "I will stay to the side, but I will not hold back if he lashes at her."

"You're a fierce, little teapot."

The mortal woman was studying the force holding her in her cell. Her brow was furrowed and she stared at the force with intrigue. Holding up a hand to touch it, her fingers were about to graze it, when Loki spoke, startling her. She hadn't noticed him.

"Lady Jane, I will show you to your room." He stood stiffly as if he wasn't familiar with how he should act in this situation. Fandral thought that was a good thing, since this wasn't a situation someone should be familiar with.

Staring at him, she brought her hand to her side and asked, "Aren't you keeping me here?"

"If you so prefer to dwell among Asgard's finest criminals, so be it." The force holding her inside the cell dissipated as he hit a switch. "But, if not, then I can take you to your room." Not waiting for her answer, he began to head towards the staircase.

"If she was smart, she would stay put," Sif mumbled.

"She is smart," Fandral said. "Which is why she'll follow."

Jane stood there, watching Loki's back. Then she started after him.

Fandral smiled. Sif scowled.

"This will end badly," she insisted.

"We will see."


	5. Ukase

 

Asgard was a place of beauty, beyond Jane's imagination. The palace, shimmering golden, redefined the definition of elegance. Columns lining the hallway and engravings on the walls would have peaked her scientific interest all day, following into weeks if only she had the chance to study everything. Now it was bleak no matter how she looked at it. Gold was her new prison. As Loki led her through the halls, she trailed a few steps behind, not wanting to get too close. This wasn't how she expected things to turn out. Becoming prisoner wasn't something she thought she'd have to do. Here she was under Loki's capture. For a good purpose, she reminded herself. Thor escaped. He was on Earth, if Loki's word was anything to go by and she hoped it was. Thor would find help from Tony – he would have to be at her house by now – and the two would figure something out. Hopefully. Jane swallowed back the rise of doubt in her throat and focused her stare on her feet, not wanting to see the… the man in front of her. Whatever he was. Jane snuck a glance at his blue hand. He certainly wasn't furniture. The curse – _not a curse_ \- must have reacted differently with him. Though she had no idea what it did to him besides make him blue and create etchings over his skin. When she first saw him, she was so startled by his appearance her memory lapsed and she forgot what he really looked like. She saw a few pictures of him on the internet here and there taken by amateurs during the attack on New York and though blurry, the images didn't suggest he had blue skin or any marks. He was pale with a normal complexion as far as she remembered. What caused him to look like this?

Jane, lost in contemplation, didn't notice a candlestick hopping next to them, hurrying to catch up with Loki's longer strides. When he reached the prince, he tapped his pants leg with a candle, prompting him to pick him up. "What?" hissed Loki once he held the candlestick closer to his face.

"Thought I'd inform you that not many ladies like knives in their necks."

Loki growled, squeezing the candlestick tighter, causing him to sputter.

"Th-th-hat is not all!" Loki minutely relaxed his grip. Fandral sighed in relief. "Try easing her mood. She is uncomfortable. Talk to her, describe things. Reassure her."

Loki's eyes flickered around the halls, wondering what to say to her. The prospect of having to romance her set in and he realized he had no plan on how to go about this. He wanted someone to break the curse so badly, he hadn't thought through the part on what he'd do once he found someone. Now she was here with him, alone, and he didn't know how to begin. The thought was disturbing. Had he been in love before? What was that like? What had happened? Loki's stomach twisted painfully as his mind swam with uncertainty. He wanted to break the curse. But, how could he get Jane Foster to love him? How could he love her? Love was an emotion, but was it an emotion he was capable of? He took in a sharp breath. Those were questions for another time. Fandral made a good point. Talking was better than letting silence drag on.

"These halls are your home now," he began, taking a glance over his shoulder. She was a few paces behind and didn't look up. He turned forward again. Fandral was gesturing with his candleholders for him to continue. "You can go anywhere in the palace, except the West wing," he added.

Jane's brow cinched at the last part, but she didn't speak up. Her silence was her own little defiance. Though prisoner, she didn't feel like one. If the palace was hers to roam, then what was he keeping her for? Another taunt to Thor. But, then why was he letting her have free range of the palace, besides whatever was in the West wing? She didn't know what to make of this.

Soon they stopped in front of a door unlike the others. It was light green with silver handles. Loki opened it with his free hand and waited for her to enter. She walked inside cautiously, inspecting it carefully. The walls were plain blue, and a large bed in the center and a vanity dresser were the only furnishings inside. She noted double doors next to the bed that led to a balcony and another door on the furthest side of the room that she wasn't sure about. Nothing looked like it would kill her. She turned back to Loki, who was still standing in the doorway. Looming there with the light silhouetting him, his skin looked darker, making his red eyes glow brighter, more ominously. "Yes?" she prompted.

"This palace is your new home."

"You've said that."

His eyes narrowed, but he continued. "However, there are rules. You are not allowed to leave. If you feel so bold and should try, you won't make it past the entrance. If you somehow manage that, Heimdal cannot send you to Midgard. That is, if you don't fall off the bridge to your death first."

"What are the other rules?"

"Every night, you must accompany me to dinner. If you disobey, you do not eat."

Jane frowned. "You want me to eat dinner with you?"

"Yes."

"I'm not doing that."

"Then you starve," he said firmly and then continued. "Final rule…" He hesitated.

Jane waited, watching the lines in his face. A war waged inside him as he struggled to say the last words. This was hard for him. She wondered why.

"Final rule," he repeated, jaw set. "You… must try to love me." The last words were a rush of air.

A startled laugh escaped her lips. "You are not serious." His face darkened and his lip twitched. He wasn't laughing like someone should after telling a joke. "You… are serious?" Another laugh rushed from her mouth, this one from nervousness. "I… I'm not…" She clamped her mouth shut and dropped her stare to the floor. Then she slowly brought it back up. Red eyes pierced through the air like knives. "What sick trick is this?" she demanded.

The muscles in his face strained as he fought to remain calm against her reaction. It was expected. Her alliance was with _Thor_. Who was he to think he could win her affections from the Almighty Thor? It was no contest. There was no question. If she had to choose, it was clear who she would have wanted. But, _he_ wasn't here. "There is no trick."

"Then what angle are you working?"

"No angle."

Clutching her fists, she growled in frustration. "Then whatever this game is, you won't win. I will never love you. What-whatever this is-" she gestured around her. "none of it will work. You can forget your rules because I'm not following them." She spat, "Especially the last one." Then, feeling brave, she added, haughtily, "I love Thor." The words felt false in her mouth, but she pushed the unease of saying them aside. It was her one taunt she had against him.

Loki's mouth twitched. "Your hero isn't here."

"He'll come back for me."

"Is that what he told you when he abandoned you?" Fandral was whispering something, but Loki ignored him, anger building up in his gut. How could she hold faith in him, when he had no means of returning? What possessed her to hope so strong? "Did he tell you why he couldn't see you? Did he tell you why he vanished from your life?"

Fandral's muttering was a buzz on the outer lining of his hearing like an annoying bug. He heard his words in fragments. "Loki… that's not how… delicate flower… you're…" But, he paid no heed to him. His attention was on the woman in front of him. The one who held his once-brother so high above others. Above _him_.

"It doesn't matter what kept him here. He came back."

"To get me."

"He stayed."

"For you or for Midgard?"

"You're a child."

"What?" His anger slipped into confusion. The choice of words was unexpected.

"You're a child," Jane repeated. "You want what Thor has. You want to take what is his and taunt him with it." She nodded as if affirming her own suspicions. "That's what this all is. I don't know what you did to Asgard-"

"You think _I_ did this to myself?" he demanded, holding out his hand.

Seeing him reach out his arm made her flinch. It was a subtle movement, barely perceptible, but he saw. His stomach clinched. He dropped his arm instantly, recoiling from the doorframe. For a moment, everything was silence. Then he spoke, quieter. "I will retrieve you for dinner."

She didn't reply. She only stared at him with her judging, accusing eyes. He shut the door and hurried into the hall. Placing Fandral on the floor, he began walking towards the banquet room. Taps behind him alerted him to a candlestick on his heel.

"That could've gone better."

"Shut up, Fandral."

"Love is a cold mistress."

"She will never love me." Loki stopped, pressing a hand against the wall and sliding the other down his face, sighed. "This was a mistake. I shouldn't have let you bring her back."

"Nonsense, Loki. Things are rough now, but so are the ways of love. She'll come around."

"And if she doesn't?" Blue drifted in the corner of his eyes. He straightened up and brought his hand to his thigh.

Fandral hesitated. "She will."

"No, she won't." Loki started walking again.

"It is only the first day. Love takes time."

"What do you know about love?" he scoffed. "All you know are cheap drinks and pretty faces."

Fandral halted, staring wide-eyed at the prince. "Oh, that is a low blow."

"Is it not true?"

Fandral didn't follow him, but called, "How about I talk to her?"

Loki didn't slow his step. "What good would it do?"

"If she has a friend, she'll be more comfortable."

He didn't respond. Fandral took this as a 'yes' and started back to Jane's room. When he arrived at her door, he found a familiar teapot, sitting – _or was it standing?_ – outside, staring at the entrance grumpily.

"Well, what is this?" he asked, amused.

Sif didn't turn to him, only glared harder at the door. "I was coming here to warn her about him. Someone needs to make sure she keeps sense in that head of hers."

"And you're waiting outside because…?" He left the sentence hanging for her to finish.

The teapot sighed. A smile cracked the candle's face. "Odin's beard," he muttered, pressing his lips together to stifle a chuckle. "You..." A laugh snorted through his nose. "You can't kn-"

"If you finish that sentence, I'll-"

"You'll what? You can't do anything. You're a teapot." Fandral began laughing, not holding back. The warrior woman was so independent. Not being able to do something as simple as knocking had to be a huge blow to her. Fandral found it endlessly amusing.

Sif turned her glare on him. "If I had my hands, I would strangle you with them."

Fandral held up his candlesticks in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, fierce, little teapot. I'll knock." He would at least save her the embarrassment of having to ask.

"Who's there?" Jane's voice was harsh.

"It is us, Fandral and Sif," he answered.

"Oh," her voice softened. Footsteps were heard inside and then the door clicked open. She peered through a crack and then, seeing it was only them, opened it wider for them to enter. "What are you two doing here? I'd have thought he'd keep you locked up." She went to sit on her bed as the two stood next to her legs.

Fandral opened his mouth to speak, but Sif was brisker. "That doesn't matter. I'm here to make sure nothing happens to you. He's here," she stopped, glancing at the candlestick. "I don't know what he's here for. Probably to make a mess of things."

Fandral looked at her, appalled. "Excuse you?"

Jane watched them. "Um, thanks, I guess? But, how is a teapot going to help me? Help me from what? I don't know what's going on."

"A curse has fallen on Asgard. The only way to bre-" Sif was stopped short by a candle plopping over her mouth hastily.

"What she means is," Fandral hurried to continue while holding Sif's mouth shut. "Someone, we don't know who, came in and cursed Asgard. Everyone was turned into furniture."

"What about Loki? He's not furniture." Not unless they had chairs that were blue and looked like the second Asgardian prince. That thought was disturbing.

"Well, you see," He took his candle from Sif's mouth, who grimaced at him in bewilderment. "The curse affected him differently. He's a… he's, um…" He pursed his lips and then in one breath said, "He's a frost giant."

"A what?"

"They're a species from the realm, Jotunheim."

"Why was he turned into that?"

"We're not sure," he lied. There were some things he wanted to withhold from her for the time being.

"Lady Jane," Sif interrupted. "Loki is a trickster."

"A charming trickster," Fandral cut in.

"He's nefarious for playing people."

"In all the right ways."

" _Shut up, Fandral_ ," The teapot hissed and then looked up at Jane. "Keep your wits about you. You can get through this."

Jane nodded. "I will. Whatever game he's playing, I'll beat him."

"But, keep an open heart," Fandral added, ignoring the brutal glares Sif was cutting him with. "Perhaps dinner with him won't be so bad."

Jane frowned. "I'm not having dinner with him. Those rules," she scoffed. "Whatever. I'll show him what I think of his rules. I won't eat with him and I won't 'try' to do anything."

"Maybe you should give him a chance…" Fandral suggested weakly.

Jane gave him a strange look. "Why are you being so nice about him?"

"Not many people like him."

"I'm not surprised."

"Perhaps he only desires the company."

"Then he can eat with you because nothing will make me share a meal with him." And that was that.

Fandral sighed. This was going to be harder than he thought.

/

* * *

/

Jane was late. Which made no sense because this was her house and _he_ was running late. Tony told her afternoon and already it was rolling into five, but really this wasn't his fault. Pepper was adamant about their date being that night and he was confident it was tomorrow. Then Jarvis informed him it _was_ that night, but he was already too deep into the hole he dug himself just to admit he was wrong. Things eventually worked themselves out and now he was hours late, even later than he told her. She was sure to be mad. But, when he arrived, no one answered the door. Thinking maybe she was in her lab, he let himself in, announcing his entrance. He waited a few minutes, but was greeted by silence. She wasn't in her lab, either.

It wasn't like Jane not to be on time when it came to her projects. Especially since she lived here. Did she go out? He already tried her trailer. Nothing. When he came back, he noticed coffee split over her table, long dried up. As he was staring at that, something flashing on her computer screen caught his attention. Curious, he went over to check it. Something opened up in the sky. Twice. One from early morning and another two hours ago. Both were left untouched, flashing on the screen.

He didn't like the looks of it. If Thor came back, why was there another anomaly? Unless? Did Jane leave to go on a joyride to Asgard? She never played hooky. Though it was Asgard. He couldn't blame her for leaving. Smirking, he took out his phone. "Jarvis, scan the area for Thor and Jane within five miles." If they were still around, they shouldn't be too far.

Moments later, the A.I. responded, "Person found. Thor is by the Bi-Frost sight."

"No Jane?" Tony frowned.

"Jane is nowhere within five miles."

"Something's not right here, Jarvis."

"I agree, Sir. That shirt and those pants."

"Jarvis," he scolded. "I'm going out there to see what's going on."

After putting on the Iron Man suit, he added, "And for the record, this outfit is a ten."

"Out of a hundred."

"Stop talking to Pepper."

/

* * *

/

Thor was where Jarvis found him. In the middle of the Bi-Frost, shouting at the skies. Jane was nowhere in sight. A truck was though. Tony landed a few meters away and started walking towards him, lifting the mask on his suit. "Thor," he called.

The Asgardian didn't look at him. He was too focused on the skies, shouting a single word. Tony didn't recognize it. "Thor," he repeated, louder. The man tossed him a glance, but turned back to the sky, this time in silence. "Thor? What's going on?" he asked as he approached. "Where's my nerd?" The words were light, teasing. He was waiting for Thor to turn to him and tell him Jane was out, that he was waiting for her return, that Tony had no reason to have worry gnawing at his gut. That hope died when he saw the grim expression on the Asgardian's face.

"Thor," His voice was firm. "Where's Jane?"


	6. The Kitchen Three

 

"Come on."

"No."

"The bread is delicious."

"No."

"The soup?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You don't have to eat. You could stare at my lovely face the whole time."

Sif sighed in exasperation. Fandral was set on trying to convince Jane to accept Loki's invitation to dinner, but the mortal refused at every turn.

"Have you eaten any Asgardian delicacies?"

"Well, no," Jane admitted. "But…"

"Then now would be your chance." Fandral raised his eyebrows, smiling. "Think of it. All those tastes and smells. The new flavors. The appetizing aroma wafting through the air."

"I'm not going," she told him firmly. She _did_ want to try Asgardian food, but she always thought Thor would be the one to show her. Not his brother.

"Milady, you must be a tad peckish?"

"No."

A growl rippled through the room. Jane's face reddened, realizing it was her stomach. She really should've had more than… oh, wait. She didn't have a chance to finish her coffee. Now she was famished. The candlestick was grinning at her. She frowned. "No."

Fandral sighed. The mortal was stubborn. Like someone he knew, he thought, giving the teapot next to him a knowing glance. Her focus on Jane, she ignored him.

"Lady Jane," the teapot addressed her. "Going to dinner might do well for you."

Fandral looked at Sif in surprise.

Jane shook her head. "I'm not going to sit down with him. That's playing his game."

"Would you rather starve?"

"I doubt he'd let me starve. Then he would have nothing to taunt Thor with." She said those words with confidence, but there was doubt in the back of her mind. She wasn't sure if that would be enough for him not to starve her. The pang in her stomach grew. Food would be good right now, but she wasn't going to let him have sway over her.

"You do not know that," Sif insisted. "Loki can be-"

There was a knock at the door. "Dinner is ready."

"I'm not going."

Fandral covered his face with his candle holders. Though a lovely lady, she was vexing.

There was a pause and then, "If you do not accompany me, you starve."

Jane leapt to her feet and shouted at the door, "I'd rather starve."

Fandral pulled his holders from his face, staring wildly at her. "Lady Jane, do not speak this way. Remember, you have yet to give him a cha-"

"So be it." Footsteps faded away from the room.

They waited until it was silent. Then Jane deflated, dropping back onto the bed, exhaling loudly. "That was stressful," she mumbled. "Is he always so sunny?"

"Only to those he likes," Fandral sighed. "Lady Jane, are you not hungry? Why do you refuse to attend dinner?"

"I agree with Fandral," Sif spoke up. Then she made a face and added, "Surprisingly. But, not eating is not the way to spite Loki. What do you hope to gain?"

"Look, I'll figure something out, but right now I've had an exhausting day-" Strange that it only felt like a few hours. "- and I want to lie down. If you'd please, leave me alone to rest."

Sif looked ready to argue, but Fandral's holder at her side stopped her. She glared at him and watched as he gestured towards the door. Now wasn't the time. Jane needed to be alone. Sif nodded – or as close as she could with no neck – and said, "We will leave you be. But, consider our words."

The two left, but couldn't get too far with the door in their way and so, embarrassed, had to ask Lady Jane to open it for them. "There should really be a way for you guys to open doors. How do you go anywhere?" she mumbled as she let them out.

Once alone in the hall, Fandral grinned at the teapot. She narrowed her eyes at him. "What is it?" she hissed. "And stop making that foolish face."

Smirking, he began down the hall. "Oh, nothing. Just pleased that you're finally coming around."

She frowned, hopping after him. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing, nothing," The candlestick dismissed. "Only that you are starting to see that we must get Loki and Jane together." His grin widened as he glanced sideways at her.

She scowled at him. "Forget the curse. Who could ever love Loki? I'm trying to keep her from getting hurt."

"Since when does a mortal's welfare concern you?"

"It does not."

"Then why?" His eyes widened. "Oh, now I see."

"You see nothing."

"As sure as the sun does rise, you dot after the golden haired prince." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

Her face turned from him, but she kept his pace. "If I cannot win his favor, then the least I can offer is protection over the one who has." In the corner of her eye she caught the movement of Fandral's wax lips and knew pity was upon them. She did not wish to hear it. Hurrying, she continued, "Loki is not capable of love, nor can anyone love him in return. Our efforts would be futile."

He knew she changed subject to avoid talking about Thor, but he went along nonetheless. "Not true, Sif. Are you forgetting?" He waited, but when she did not answer, he clarified, "Loki's first love? There was another who used to tag along with Loki on our adventures. Do not tell me you forget."

Her eyes trailed across the columns along the walls before they focused ahead. She didn't forget. How could she? In the back of her mind, though it had been ages since, there dangled a memory of youthful innocence, somewhere far from now. She squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. The memory was irrelevant. That time was irrelevant. Her eyes flew open, gazing at the candlestick, not angry, but tired. She exhaled heavily, letting the memory dissipate. "Fandral, you're living a fantasy."

"One that happened."

"Right, _happened_. It's in the past. It's over."

"It can happen again."

"Do you not understand, Fandral?" She stopped hopping, causing him to stop a few paces ahead. "Things were different then. Loki was different. Now he's…" Her eyes darted around, searching the tiles for the words. None came to mind. Giving up, she settled her stare on him. He was waiting. Bitterly, she said, "That Loki doesn't exist anymore."

Fandral frowned. Then he smiled. "Is that how it is? Who would have thought that I would see the day Sif, the mightiest woman warrior of Asgard, admit defeat?"

She stiffened, but knew his ploy and held her ground. "Defeat is not the same as knowing when the battle is lost before it begins."

"They sound the same."

"Loki is a lost cause as is finding him love."

"Who is it I speak to? Is it warrior Sif or has a teapot taken her place?"

"Fandral, you know nothing when it comes to the affairs of the heart. How can you so blindly believe love will ever come between those two? She loves another."

"How can you be sure it is love she feels for him?"

"How can it not?" Sif didn't realize she shouted until her words echoed back at her. Her porcelain face paled as she spoke quieter, "How can it not? All those who cross Thor's path love him. There is no one who can hate him, save perhaps Loki."

Fandral didn't agree with the last part, but he skipped over it for now. "True, Thor is charming and handsome, but is that enough to be true love? How can we know what's between them isn't infatuation?"

"I heard how he talked about her when he returned." Sif's frown deepened. "He has never been so captivated by a woman."

"Yes, but what's to say she is as interested as he is?"

"Fandral, I'm not fighting you on this."

"Who is fighting? You are already on my side. I am simply directing you there."

She sighed. "Pull your romantic tricks. Set up dates for them. Nothing you do will change their hearts. She will not love him and he is not capable of love. I will assist her so that she does not end up half-starved by the time Thor comes to fix this mess. I am not going to help you make a fool of everyone."

Fandral's grin grew broader. "Fine, fine. Don't help. Later, you will come to your senses."

She sneered. "That's your problem on the battlefield and with women. Your overconfidence. It's repulsive."

"Am I not successful with both?" In a mock seductive voice, he said, "Soon you, too, will succumb to my charm and see that I am right."

A surprised smirk lifted her lips and she shook her body side-to-side in what would have been a slight shake of her head. "Fandral, the day you charm me will be the day Muspelheim freezes over. I stand firm in what I said." If she could shrug, she would have. "Do what you think you should. I will do what I should."

"I will speak to Loki."

She wanted to nod, but found much difficulty in this form. "Alright." Then she turned around and began hopping down the hall.

"Where are you going?" Fandral asked.

"The kitchen," she replied plainly before rounding a corner.

/

* * *

/

Jane didn't sleep long. Or at all. She thought she would fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. She felt exhausted and rightly so. The previous sleepless night and the eventful day accounted for that. But, as she lay on the bed, she couldn't fall asleep. The reason was painfully obvious. Her stomach was an unforgiving tyrant. Refusing dinner with Loki might not have been for the best, but she wasn't going to let him have control over her like that. Especially after that last rule. Whatever that meant.

It couldn't have been more than five minutes since the candlestick and the teapot left when Jane ventured into the hall. She didn't need to accompany Loki to eat. She would find something herself. There had to be a kitchen somewhere in the palace.

Turning down hallway after hallway, she checked the unlocked doors. Her search came up fruitless – _literally_. A lot of the rooms appeared to be living rooms or bedchambers, anything, but a pantry or kitchen. It was hopeless; the palace was too big. Staying in her room would've been easier, but it was useless going back now. In every direction the halls looked the same. She was lost. Dread began settling in. How did she let this happen? She should've eaten with… no. No, she was not going to think that way. Anything was better than being forced to eat with him. What did Tony call him? _"Jane, did you hear? Of course, you heard. How couldn't you have? Unless S.H.I.E.L.D. was playing hush up with Reindeer Games."_ Right. Reindeer Games. She didn't understand that nickname. Tony was explaining how they sent Loki back to Asgard alone so that Thor could stay. That seemed so long ago now. How could Asgard have seemed so unobtainable then when she was here now? And why did she have to come under circumstances like these? That didn't make much sense to her. Fandral arrived via Bi-Frost, claiming Thor sent him. He had said Thor was comforting the masses, but then when they arrived, Heimdal informed them that he was locked up by Loki. While they were traveling to the palace, the streets were deserted. If Thor was rallying his people, then where did all those people disappear to when they went through the city? She groaned. Her stomach clenched. She really needed to eat something or she was going to collapse. There'd be another time to think this through. For now, she needed to find food.

A voice from behind one of the doors snapped her from her thoughts. The door was a few paces ahead. Leaning against it, she listened and recognized the teapot's voice from earlier. _Sif?_

"Sif?" she whispered, opening the door. She didn't know where Loki could be and didn't find it likely for him to be in a random room down a random hall, but she was cautious just in case.

"Lady Jane? What are you doing here?" The teapot was upon a counter surrounded by other dishes and tableware. Cabinets, sinks and pots hanging on racks clued Jane in that this room was the kitchen she was looking for.

"Uh, I couldn't sleep," she admitted.

Sif was sitting – _standing?_ – next to salt and pepper shakers around her size. The faces on the side of the glass also looked familiar to Jane, but she wasn't sure why. The teapot turned from them and peered at her as she approached the counter. "Your stomach deceives you," she said. Her face remained neutral, but Jane wondered if she wasn't frowning under the façade. "You must be hungry."

Jane saw no harm in telling her. She seemed like she was genuinely aiding her. "Yes."

"Then you're in time. Hogun, Volstagg and I were going to bring you the Midgardian delicacy, waffles." Behind them was a plate of waffles Jane hadn't seen until she came closer.

Jane arched her eyebrow, looking over them curiously. The salt shaker was thin and pointed, taller than Sif and the pepper shaker was round, almost as wide as Sif, but taller than the other two. "Why waffles?" It wasn't breakfast anymore. Unless it was and she couldn't tell. Time felt differently here.

"Thor brought back the recipe when he returned from Midgard. We thought it would be better for you to eat something familiar," Volstagg – or at least, Jane thought he was the pepper shaker – explained. "Since you are so far from your home."

"Thank you. This was nice of you three," she said as she picked up the plate. They looked like Earths waffles, but bigger and fluffier. She wondered what they were made out of as she took a bite. "Wow, these are amazing. You made these yourselves?" How, she wanted to ask. But, somehow that seemed inappropriate. Probably because all three of them were limbless objects.

The salt shaker – _Hogun_ – nodded. Jane waited, but he didn't say anything. Volstagg saved her from having to fill up the silence. "Lady Jane, we heard of your plight from Lady Sif and we couldn't stand aside and watch you go hungry."

"Would he have really let me starve?" From the way their expressions turned grim, Jane decided she'd rather not hear the answer. Before Sif could speak up, the door creaked open. Jane tensed and then relaxed, seeing it was only a candlestick.

"Lady Sif," Fandral exclaimed. "What is the meaning of this?"

The teapot rolled her eyes. "Stop acting so scandalized. I'm only feeding the girl."

Fandral hopped onto a chair and up onto the counter to stand next to her. "Yes, well, this isn't exactly proper."

"I'm a prisoner eating waffles in the kitchen of a palace," Jane pointed out. "What is proper about any of this? And what do you care?"

"I am looking after your comfort, Lady Jane. Surely, a woman of your stature wouldn't want to dine in a filthy, old kitchen?"

"If it means not seeing Loki, then yes, I love dining in filthy, old kitchens." She made a show of sitting on a sack of flour pushed into the corner so that she would have a seat. However, she planted herself on the outer edge of listening distance and the teapot, candlestick and shakers had a moment of privacy.

"That woman is stubborn," muttered Fandral.

"Forcing her to dine with Loki is cruel," said Volstagg.

"Speaking of," Sif hissed, glaring at Fandral. "Didn't you go see Loki? Why are you here?"

The wax where his cheeks formed tinted a strange off-white as he grinned boyishly. "Ah, yes, well, I was off to see the prince."

"Yes?" Sif prompted.

"Yes. And then, uh, on the way, down the hall, I was stricken by the woes of love."

"You smacked faces with a feather duster again, didn't you?" she deadpanned.

His grin widened. "You make it sound so foul. I caressed a woman's lips with my own."

"You rubbed wax against feathers."

Hogun snorted softly and turned away for a moment before turning back, composed.

"Regardless of what I was doing – don't you see? This is a great opportunity."

"What do you mean?" asked Volstagg.

"I'll run and tell Loki Jane is here and then he can come and eat with her."

"You leave Jane alone, Fandral," Sif warned. "Why must you make a romantic endeavor out of nothing? Can't you see she wants nothing to do with him?" She added, "And for good reason."

"Sif," he sighed. "How are we going to turn back to normal if we don't at least try to get those two to see each other in a different light?"

"I agree with Fandral on this one," said Volstagg. "He's right. If I want to get my body back, Loki needs to find love in that mortal. That's not going to happen if they don't see each other."

Sif could see she was losing support. She turned to Hogun, hoping he'd back her up. "Well?" she asked him. "What do you think?"

He hesitated. Then slowly, he said, "I'll stand by your decision, Lady Sif."

She knew he would support her, but she could see in his eyes that he'd rather side with the others. She sighed. "Fandral," she growled, glaring at him. After a beat, she said, "Get Loki."


	7. Yield

 

"How could I have let this happen?"

"It is not your fault, Tony."

"Yes, it is."

"No-"

"Yes, it is," he shouted. "If I had been here when I said I would, I could have stopped her." He slumped down in his chair, the fight draining from him.

"You don't know that," Thor assured him, sitting on the couch adjacent to the chair. "What could you have done to make her stay?"

"Anything instead of sitting around, doing nothing," he muttered, propping his elbow on the armrest and leaning his face heavily into his hand. "Now she's in the hands of Reindeer Games." He sat up tiredly. "There must be a way to Asgard. What was she always saying? Can't we hop on that rainbow waterfall or something?"

"It's a bridge," Thor said flatly. "And no, Loki blocked that source of transportation. We'll find another way." Then he remembered something from earlier and perked up. "Wasn't Jane working on a device that could take her to Asgard?"

A long sigh emitted from Tony's mouth. "Yes, _Jane_ was. I was following her instructions. It's almost complete, but without her help, I can only go so far. I would need a genius. Someone on par with, well, me." Tony's face suddenly lifted from its gloom as his eyes widened. He sat up straighter, hovering over his seat. "Wait. Wait. That's it."

"What's it?"

Tony paused, caught in thought. Then he sprung to life from his chair and fished out his phone from his pocket. He started muttering to himself. "I can call… I'll call him and then… then we'll put our brains together…" He started to grin, pressing the speed dial button. As he waited for him to pick up, he shrugged. "What the heck? Might as well make this a party."

Thor looked at him in concern, wondering what brought about this sudden mood swing. "Why do you think we should celebrate at a time like this?"

Tony rolled his eyes, waving his hand. "Not _that_ kind of party." The phone clicked and a voice mumbled something from the other line. "Hey, Banner. Look, something's come up and I have a pet project for you." He paused. "Just come to Jane's." Another pause. "I'll explain when you get here. It's-" He made a face. "No, it is not like the time in Steve's kitchen. And I warned you. When you showed up, it was your fault. Now-" He rolled his eyes. In a firm tone, he said, "Jane has been kidnapped." He paused. "Un-huh. Yeah, you'll never guess." His eyebrows shot up. "How did you guess? Never mind. Just get over here. Bye." He hung up the phone.

"Was that Bruce?" Thor asked.

Tony nodded, not looking up, already beginning to dial the next number. "Un-huh. Calling in the green rage." He added, "And a few others."

Suddenly, the door to Jane's observatory banged open, a brunette woman standing in the entryway. In her hands, she juggled with two containers and a cup, closing the door behind her with her foot. "Hey, Boss Lady, sorry I'm late. Had a project I forgot about at college and all that. But, guess who brought your favorite Chinese take-" She halted, noticing the two men. "Out?" Pursing her lips, she looked from Thor to Tony, scrunching her brow. Smirking, she asked, "What is this? A party?"

"Not _that_ kind of party," Thor informed her.

Darcy only looked on in confusion.

Tony finished dialing, letting the phone ring as he said, "Intern, right? You're not stealing _this_ phone. The work we're about to do can't afford breaks."

Arching a brow, she strolled over to the counter, placing the boxes and cup down before turning back to the men in confusion. "Alright, someone start spilling because I'm more lost than when Jane is on a star rant."

Thor stood, crossing the space to her. Looking down at her softly, he said, "Lady Darcy, I apologize for having to tell you this terrible news."

"Wait." She held up her hand. "If there's going to be any bad news telling, at least, let me prepare myself." Hurrying, she pivoted to swipe one of the containers off the counter and then brushed past Thor and Tony to settle down on the couch comfortably. Taking off the chopsticks taped to her container, she placed them in her hand, flexed them once and then opened the box, revealing chicken and rice slathered in red sauce. "Alright, Thunder Boy. Hit me."

Thor widened his eyes at her. "Lady Darcy, no, I do not wish to strike you."

She rolled her eyes. "Thunder Boy, you have been on Earth, or, uh, Midgard long enough to know what I meant." She tried again, "Lay it on me."

"Lay what on you?"

"For Pete's sake, what is the bad news?"

"I know not this 'Pete', but I am afraid the news involves Jane."

Darcy, having already started stuffing pieces of chicken into her mouth, mumbled, "Yeah? Where is she anyway? Tinkering away on one of her devices, I assume. That lady never stops working." Smiling, she added, "If she did, she'd have a brick ton more dates." Then darting a glance at Thor, she said, "With you, of course." Shrugging as she chewed her rice, she swallowed and asked, "Well? What is it?"

/

* * *

/

The banquet hall was decorated top to bottom as it had always been, brightening the room, welcoming all those who entered. At dinner it would usually be full of Æsir, happily chattering and surrounding the long table in the middle. Now there was only silence. Only one at the end of the table.

Fandral hopped to where the prince sat, looking more miserable by the second. The candlestick took a slow breath. Then, plastering on his biggest grin, and speaking cheerfully, said, "Loki, I have grand news."

"I am in no mood for whatever you are up to," Loki told him, not looking up from his untouched soup.

"Up to something," he gasped. "Loki, I'm galled." Noticing that he wasn't getting much of a reaction, Fandral hurried to continue. "But, I can put that behind us and tell you the great opportunity that opened up."

"Unless you can lift this curse another way, then I do not want to hear it. Leave me in peace."

"It is about the mortal."

Loki didn't show a visible reaction, but Fandral thought his mood picked up somewhat. "Has she changed her mind?" Fandral thought he imagined hope in the words.

"No," he said bluntly, and then hastily added, "However, she left her room and is in the kitchen. She's eating the Midgardian delicacy, waffles."

Loki turned sharply towards him, glaring. "She's eating in the kitchen after I strictly told her that she wouldn't be allowed food unless she dined with me?"

"Now don't twist your cape in a knot," Fandral said. "Don't you see the opportunity here?"

"I can see no one abides to my rules."

"This is your chance. She left her room. Now she is eating alone. Make your move."

"Eat in the kitchen with a mortal." Loki frowned. "When have I fallen so far?" He knew the answer to that question, but felt like asking it aloud, regardless.

"I believe you mean, when have you fallen so far into such a lovely lady's awaiting arms?"

Loki shot him a detestable look. "There's no 'awaiting arms'. And if there were, I'm sure she'd have a knife."

"Or perhaps a sword." Fandral raised his brows. "Who knows what weapon she'd like to maim you with? You'll never learn until you talk to her. Come now, let's go. There's a lonely lady in the kitchen, waiting to be entertained."

"This won't go well."

"Not unless you try."

Loki stared at his cold soup and then across the variety of food on the table. Fandral held his breath. Loki rose from his seat. "Lead the way."

/

* * *

/

Jane held her fork from her face and examined it with intrigue. It looked like an Earth fork, but more eccentric. Swirls and tiny designs, unlike ones from home, were etched into the handle and the spokes were strangely curled at the end. She never wondered about the motif of forks before, but this was an _Asgardian_ fork. A smile lit her face. She was in _Asgard_. The smile disappeared rapidly. She was in one of the most exclusive places not known to humans and she couldn't even enjoy it. Why did Loki have to become a Frost Giant and go loco? He was supposed to be locked up.

Placing the fork atop her stack of waffles, she looked up to see Sif and the spice shakers talking on the counter. She couldn't hear them, but she wasn't trying to. She wondered why they went through the trouble of making her something to eat. The thought couldn't be expanded on. The door opened. The one standing in the doorway caused her mind to seize up.

No one spoke a word. The room felt tight, suffocating. Red eyes, darker than blood, cut through the air. Sif made the first move.

"Loki, we have been waiting for you."

Jane stared at her. _We have?_ She certainly wasn't waiting for him. She started thinking of ways to escape. She could make a mad dash for the door and try her luck in any of the unlocked rooms. Jane pushed those thoughts aside. No, she wouldn't run. Not from Loki. If she ran, then she'd be playing his game. He wanted to frighten her. That had to be his ploy. She'd show him. She'd sit right here on her flour sack and finish her waffles. He wasn't going to have control over her.

Loki turned to Sif who was sitting – _or standing?_ – in front of a plate of what he surmised were 'waffles' and two spice shakers that stroke a familiar cord. He'd never understand the workings of the curse and its effect on everyone. "Lady Sif, your kindness has reached new bounds." He approached the counter. "I never knew you had the capability to tend for anyone, but yourself." Smiling in mock politeness, he picked up the plate and turned to where he had seen Jane sitting. He made a face. Why there of all places? He walked over to her, standing aside awkwardly as he tried to figure out where to sit. Jane was seated on a bag of flour, leaving his only options a sack of potatoes, another sack of flour or the floor. None of these were favorable, but opting to stand would make this more uncomfortable than it already was. Staring up from the floor at someone wasn't ideally romantic. "Wouldn't you rather sit in a chair?" he asked, half out of making conversation, half out of genuine curiosity. That didn't look comfortable at all.

Without looking up from her waffles, she mumbled, "No. I am content right here."

"Chairs are customarily what one sits on while consuming a meal."

"I wouldn't know what prisoners sit on." She looked up at him, but on seeing his red eyes and blue skin, she dropped her gaze. "What does it matter to you? You don't have to eat here."

The way she avoided looking at him didn't escape his notice. Swallowing back the bile in his throat, he said, "I choose to eat where I want and where I want is here." He lowered himself onto the sack of flour that was a few feet from Jane's, thinking it'd be more favorable than potatoes or the floor itself. "Rule two, or have you forgotten?"

"How can I forget?" she asked, lifting her head, keeping her gaze steady. "I don't know what you're planning, but you can forget your rules. I'm not playing."

Loki smirked bitterly. Then, remembering if he wanted out of this skin, he had to at least _try_ to be hospitable, he said, "Lady Jane, is all this a game in your eye? Is it impossible to fathom that I merely wish the company?"

That was what Fandral said earlier, she recalled, when he was talking to her about Loki. Had the candlestick talked to him beforehand about this? If so, then why? What was all of this? She didn't know and she didn't care to find out. "The candlestick isn't enough for you?" Looking back at her plate, she took a bite of her waffle, trying to enjoy them, and ignored the shift in atmosphere.

He hadn't touched his waffles. His red gaze focused solely on her. "Objects do not compare to someone real." Then he added, slyly, "Or someone with your beauty." That had to be one of his most boldfaced lies yet. There had been an assortment of others whom he had in his company whose beauty outshone hers no question. It was to be expected. She was only mortal. An average mortal. The mortal who was his only chance. The thought made his stomach churn. He was not relying on a mortal for help. It was pathetic. He was manipulating one into helping him. That was better.

Jane coughed, bringing the back of her hand to her mouth to keep from spitting everywhere. She didn't hear that. No, she definitely heard that. Loki, kneel-for-me-Loki, used the word 'beauty' and he used it to refer to her. Placing her fork on her plate, she stared at him and realized he hadn't taken his blood red gaze from her the whole time. His waffles were untouched. "Don't… don't say things like that." Her head was shaking side-to-side before she finished the sentence.

"Why not? You are beautiful. I only speak the truth."

Fandral, standing next to Sif, grinned. "Aha! Look at him. He's a natural. He's doing wonderful."

"He's failing," she muttered.

Fandral looked at her in surprise. "Hold your tongue. He's doing excellent. The curse will be lifted by tonight."

"The truth coming from a liar's tongue is only a lie," Jane bit out, her unease evident on her face.

"Ahhhh…" Fandral winced. "Love is a mystery."

"There's no mystery. She hates him."

"Love blossoms from the flames of hatred."

"Or the fire burns everything."

"You take the fun out of this." Fandral pouted.

"I didn't realize there was fun to be had under this curse."

"You must admit, this is fun." He gestured towards the two sitting on flour sacks, one glaring openly while the other doing his best to hide his glare under a fake smile. "When have you ever seen Loki willingly sit on flour?"

"I'll give you that one."

"There are exceptions to the liar's mouth," Loki told Jane easily.

"I wouldn't know the difference between a lie and a truth," she shot back, popping another piece of waffle into her mouth.

"Not many do."

Jane clanked her fork against her plate. When she looked down, she realized she ate all of her waffles. Standing up, she said, "I think I'll go to bed now."

Loki stood, too, holding his plate of untouched waffles. "So, shall I." Placing the plate on the counter, he waited to the side as Jane followed suit, placing her plate next to his.

"Thank you," she said to the teapot and spice shakers.

"I'll escort you to your room," Loki said.

"That's fine. I'll find it on my own," Jane said in a rush.

"Let me come with you," Sif offered. "The palace can become confusing."

Glancing at Loki, Jane said, "See? She can take me. You don't have to worry."

He forced a smile. "So, be it."

As Sif led Jane down the corridor, Loki watched until their forms disappeared. Once gone, he began towards his own chambers.

"Well, I guess that was the first date."

Loki halted, rigidly. Turning to the candlestick at his side, he asked, flatly, "You're calling that a date?"

The candlestick shrugged. "I'm counting anything I can get. Now let's plan for the next one."

Loki sighed, heatedly. "What makes you think there's going to _be_ a next one?"

Waving a candleholder dismissively, Fandral said, "No, no, Loki. Of course, there will be a next one. She can't hide in her room forever. And she let you sit with her. That's a start, isn't it?"

Shaking his head, Loki resumed walking down the hall.

Fandral hopped after him. They strode in silence for a while. Then he said, "I've been thinking-"

"Don't harm yourself," hissed Loki.

Ignoring the comment, he continued, "Jane seems more comfortable with you."

Loki rolled his eyes. "We sat on flour sacks, eating Midgardian food. She wouldn't let me escort her to her room."

"Exactly. Much more comfortable."

"She hasn't been here a day."

"Right. And you should speed things up. Maybe try to sort of kind of see that you think about the possibility of..." Getting quiet, he whispered, "kissing her."

Loki wavered in his stride, but regained composure before it became noticeable. "Is your brain melting from that lit wick?"

"I'm just saying. Experiment a little - see if she'll let you kiss her."

"She's not going to let me kiss her. Why would she when I look like this?"

"Maybe a Vanir kiss wouldn't do well in this situation, but..." He paused, thinking. "Actually, if you're a really good kisser, maybe she'll reconsider being romantic with you."

Loki abruptly turned, saying, "I'm not having this discussion with you."

Fandral frowned, shouting, "Your room is this way." He started hopping after him. "Alright. Alright. No kiss. How about you hold hands?"

"No."

"Stroke her hair."

"Creepy, old men do that."

"You're in luck." Fandral smirked. "You're _well_ over 'old' in her sense." He stopped when he saw Loki's fierce glare. Hurried, he said, "Kidding! Kidding! What about-"

"Fandral, enough," Loki shouted, stopping sharply in front of the candlestick, staring down at him. "I'm doing this my way."

"I'm only lending an experienced hand."

"An experienced hand that only knows meaningless love. It's a curse, Fandral - I doubt I'll get away with petty infatuation."

"Tell me how you really feel."

Loki glared at him a moment longer before walking away, leaving the candlestick alone in the hallway.

Fandral scoffed, "Petty infatuation?" He shook his head. "I know that there have been many women in and out of my life, but surely not all were petty infatuation. Loki… he… he does not know what he talks about." He stood in the midst of the hallway, uncertainty plaguing his words.

/

* * *

/

Shuffling around the banquet hall, Fandral began wondering about what other 'dates' Loki could take Jane on. There could be flowers here. Oh, and dim lighting around this area. Now what he really needed was something flashy. But, what?

The sound of porcelain clinking tiles caught his attention. Sif approached him.

"Lady Sif," he greeted.

"How is Loki? What did he do after we left?"

"He seems set on ignoring my advice. I gave him gold and he threw it away."

She snorted derisively. "I can't say I'm surprised."

Fandral looked at her. "What does that mean?"

"You're not exactly one who forms long lasting relationships."

"That is untrue. I can. I choose not to."

She smiled. "I can believe that."

He eyed her slyly. "And there is one lady who I have had a substantially long relationship with."

Sif turned to him, confused, her brow furrowed. "Who? She must be the most enduring woman in Asgard to put up with you and how you chase after bar maids."

"Someone you're familiar with."

She scoffed in disbelief. "Now I know you're bluffing. I think I would notice if you always had a particular lady clinging to you."

Fandral smirked, continuing, "She is cunning and brave. She takes action. She doesn't sit around and let things pass her. She's also kind when times call for it, though she sometimes is too prideful to admit it."

"This lady sounds like she could do a lot better than you."

Fandral smiled. "That's certainly true. And yet there's more to this enchanting lady. She's the best sword fighter in all of Asgard, second to Thor."

"Impossible," Sif exclaimed. "I am the best..." She trailed off as she stared at him. "You're talking about me?"

Smiling, he nodded. "That's right. Our friendship. That's a relationship. And I must be doing something right to keep you from running away from me all these years."

A laugh slipped from her mouth in spite of herself. "Yes," she admitted. "You keep me by a thread. A very, very thin thread, but it keeps me from running away, screaming." She shook her head. "I'm going to check on, Jane." Beginning to turn down the hall towards the mortal's room, she added, "Good night."

"Good night."

It wasn't until Sif was gone and a few hours later that Fandral realized that his initial teasing comment about their friendship was the truth. He did find her as a special, particular lady in his life. One he could not win the affections of. One who fawned over another. In that moment, he realized the truth he had been hiding from all those years, all those times he noticed her smile, all those times he felt a small, insignificant pang when her lips spoke of Thor. Fandral had a small, teapot-shaped mark on his heart and no amount of other women could ever wipe it away.


	8. Impasse

 

"I want you to be honest with me," Fandral said, looking at Loki expectantly. "Have you ever romanced anyone in your entire life?"

Loki eyed the candlestick warily. "Didn't I tell you to stop giving me advice?"

"Is Jane in love with you?" Loki didn't respond, only glaring with contempt at the candlestick. "Now answer the question."

Through clenched teeth, he growled, "Not as a Frost Giant, no."

Fandral held up his holders. "Alright, fair enough. But, it has been days and nothing has changed. It's time to change tactics."

"You brought me the most stubborn woman in all the nine realms."

Every day it was the same. Loki would try to convince Jane to leave her room to no avail. Then he would ask her to dinner only to be rejected. Finally, he would find her later on in the kitchen, eating some sort of Midgardian concoction, where they would sit in high strung tension, saying few words until she finished eating and then she would rush back to her bedroom. The next day would repeat. If Fandral didn't berate him with something different every morning, he'd believe he was stuck in a time loop.

"Flatter her, something."

"I have," Loki hissed, sitting grumpily on his bed as he glared at the candlestick on the floor. "Nothing I tell her works. I tell her she is beautiful; she tells me not to. I tell her she fascinates me; she tells me to leave her alone. I give her flowers; she throws them at me. What does that mortal want?"

"Have you tried sincerity?"

"Have you?" Loki shot back bitterly.

"My love life isn't going to save Asgard."

"And neither will mine with how this is going."

"Look, how about we mix things up this morning?"

"Fandral, if I keep listening to your advice, five years will pass and you'll be clanking around the palace while I'll be trapped in this hideous form."

"Tell her 'good morning'. Women love it when you're considerate."

"Do you speak out of experience or have you fled too many maidens' chambers and merely guess?"

Fandral rolled his eyes. He was more vexing than usual. "What have you to lose? Tell her 'good morning'. Ask her if she'd let you escort her around the palace. The worse she can do is tell you no."

That was what Loki didn't want to hear. It would be another failure to mock him. The candlestick was right, though. He had to try if he wanted to get anywhere with this. Blue glinted in the corner of his eye. He had nothing to lose.

/

* * *

/

Jane awoke to pounding at her door. There was a pause and muffled voices and then the knocking was softer. Someone was waiting for her answer. She knew who it was. The chances usually ended up being him. "What do you want?" she asked, groggily, wiping sleep from her eyes.

There was a moment's hesitation and then, "Good morning, Jane."

She frowned. That was new. Out of customary habit, she automatically replied, "Good morning."

"Today I was thinking I could show you around the palace."

"No." Her refusal was immediate.

"You can't possibly stay in your room forever. You'll have to leave at some time."

Jane smirked and taunted, "Like when I go to the kitchen?" She felt triumphant with that. Every night since she came to Asgard, she snuck out to get her own food _without_ Loki escorting her anywhere.

"I'm always there when you are." A note of hostility broke the calm he was construing.

"After the fact," she pointed out. "Loki, why don't you leave me alone? I'm already your prisoner. What more do you want from me?"

Loki looked at the candlestick at his feet. "Well?" he hissed, lowering his voice. "Now what? It is the same every day."

Gesturing helplessly, the candlestick tried stirring ideas out of thin air. Once something struck him, he suggested, "Give her time. She's still adjusting to her new home. The poor dear must be frightened. I'll talk to her to ease her into this."

"Oh, no you don't." A voice called from farther down the hall. They looked to see a teapot hopping her way towards them. " _You_ ," she said accusatorily to Fandral as she drew nearer. "You flirtatious wick, you stay outside. _I'm_ talking to her."

"Talk some sense into her," Loki said. "Nothing I do for that infuriating woman works." Motioning for Fandral to follow him, he headed down the hall.

Once they were out of sight, Sif turned to the door and called, "Lady Jane, it is I, Sif."

The door opened a moment later, a disheveled Jane in the entryway. Her hair was in knots, flying every which way and her clothes were rumpled, a mess of wrinkles with an occasional stain blemishing them. The teapot widened her eyes. "Lady Jane, what has put you in such a state?"

Jane didn't answer, only sighed as she waited for Sif to move inside so she could close the door and then stomped back to her bed where she plopped down into her sheets.

"Lady Jane?" Sif ventured. "Are you alright?"

"No," she mumbled. Trapped in the very place she aspired to travel to and by Thor's younger brother who was bent on forcing her into spending time with him. For what reason? That was what she couldn't puzzle out. What could he hope to gain? Not to mention, she was talking to porcelain. Nothing was alright. And there was one more thing.

The teapot stood to the side stiffly, more from awkwardness rather than her glass figure. She wasn't one to comfort people or give advice, especially when it came to one imprisoned over something as frivolous as love. No, not love. Imprisoned in hopes of gaining love. Nothing about this was honorable. It was underhanded. She wasn't about to trade away her standards because it would make things easier. Lying belonged to liars. Loki could keep his lies. She'd steer Jane in a direction to survive and if something more happened along the way, then who was she to stop it? "Lady Jane," she began, but was surprised when she was cut off almost instantaneously.

"Sif, I," she stopped when she realized Sif was about to say something. "You go ahead."

"You first."

Jane nodded. "Alright. I'm confused for one thing. I don't understand his motive at all. He captured me, isn't that enough? Why does he not keep me in that weird cell-thing? Why give me my own room? What is he doing?" She threw her hands up and let out a frustrated growl. Letting her hands fall into her lap, she gazed at the teapot intensely as if studying the porcelain would grant her all the answers. "This is all to spite Thor. I don't know what his problem is, but it doesn't involve me."

 _You have no idea_ , Sif thought, unamused. "It's just as well that you keep wary of the trickster. I would not turn my back to him, but you are no better."

Jane startled, mouth falling open with surprise. "What did you-?"

"You tell me that you do not want to play his game, but you have already lost. By hiding in your room, you let him have control over you, over your actions. You do not play, but you lose by default. He's driven you into a corner, one you stay in with no intention of escape."

Wanting nothing more than to deny everything she just said, Jane opened her mouth to throw a comeback, only to stop herself. Even though she hated to admit it, Sif was right. By not playing the game, she lost. By locking herself in her room, she let Loki confide her to a single room. "I see your point," she finally conceded. "But, what should I do? You expect me to do whatever he says? Obey all rules?"

"No. I expect you to face this battle honorably. I expect you not to hide away and rot in this room. You want to win? Then do not let him have say over you. Do not let him make you sneak off to the kitchen in secret. If you are hungry, then sit at the table and eat like you belong there." Feeling confident, she added, "The palace is yours to roam, after all."

Jane was nodding. Sif was right. She couldn't win the game if she hid all the time. Loki didn't have any say over her. If she was going to live in the palace, then she would do whatever she pleased.

Sif continued. "Accept his invitation to dinner. Dining with him will show him that you are not scared of him or his game."

"Right. You're right. I can win this. I'll show him." Jane jumped to her feet, feeling energized and ready to do anything.

"That's the spirit."

Then Jane quickly sat back down on the bed, frowning. In a quieter voice, she said, "There's one problem."

"What?"

Jane glanced at her outfit and then back at the teapot. "Welll… I came to Asgard in this outfit. And, seeing how it's been a few days and it'd my only outfit, it has gotten… really gross."

Sif blinked. How could she have forgotten something so trivial? Of course, Jane has been in the same outfit. She hadn't expected this when she arrived and it wasn't as if there were other Midgardian clothes strewn about. Then she remembered. "Your vanity should contain clothing. There must be something you could change into."

Jane had already looked in there and immediately didn't want to even consider the option of putting one of those dresses on. "I don't know if I would be comfortable in Asgardian clothing."

"Nonsense. It's very comfortable. The fabric is breathable. It's-"

"They're all green."

"Oh," Sif pursed her lips. "Yes, I can see how that's troublesome." She could understand the mortal's hesitancy, but really there was nothing to be done. "Let's put it like this, either you wear a nice, comfortable, soft Asgardian dress or you continue wearing your old, days spoiled clothes."

"Well, when you put it like that." Jane sighed as she got to her feet and went over to the vanity. She cringed on seeing her reflection. She was in a desperate need of a morning shower. It was a good thing that other door led to a bathroom otherwise who knew what state of disorder she'd find herself in. Opening the top drawer, she began sifting through the dresses until she settled on grabbing a light green one, the most off-color of Loki's. "What is this?" She noticed something in the corner of the drawer. Pushing aside dresses, she uncovered what was hidden. She gave a startled gasp, slamming the drawer shut.

"What is it, Lady Jane?"

Jane frowned and in a low voice she muttered, "There was underwear in my size."

/

* * *

/

Silence echoed heavily in the banquet hall. At one end of the long table sat Loki, at the other Jane. They hadn't spoken a word since they sat down and began consuming their meals. Off to the side, a teapot and candlestick stood, watching.

"This is going well," Fandral remarked.

Sif stared at him. "No, it's not. The levels of awkwardness revel the time you seduced one of the councilmen's wives and then we all had to dine together."

He smirked. "One? I remember more than one."

She groaned. "You're a scoundrel and this dinner is a disaster."

"You can't look at them and tell me they aren't great together."

"I'm afraid your desperation is showing."

"Do not mock my confidence where you lack thereof. Do tell, though, how did you manage to coax Jane into that gorgeous number? It is ravishing," he purred, grinning mischievously.

"You wear the same clothes for several days."

"Ah," Fandral hummed. "If it makes any difference, I'd say the change of clothes had an effect on Loki."

"Hardly. There's not much to say between them."

"I'll talk to him." Fandral offered as he began hopping towards the prince.

Loki stared down the table at Jane who hadn't said a word since they arrived. He was surprised, to say the least, when she opened her door, even more so when she was dressed in that gown and he was floored when she agreed to dinner with him. Asking her had become habit, a game in itself. He would ask; she would say 'no'; he'd find her in the kitchen. Their own little routine. Predictable. He hated it. But, he didn't know how to approach her any other way. Barging into her room wouldn't do well to win her favor and being how stubborn she was he could imagine she'd starve to death for real if she didn't sneak out to eat in the kitchen. Now the game changed and he was relieved, thinking she must have started becoming used to the idea of him, if not himself physically. One step closer. That last rule may have been too much, he thought suddenly, remembering her reaction. Was that why she kept to her room? If so, then that was definitely not the best course to have taken. If anything, it would seem to have hindered his chances of lifting the curse. It had seemed better at the time to let her know his intentions, instead of letting her play guess-and-miss over the next five years. Why would she believe, he, a Frost Giant, was after her affections? He didn't believe it. It wasn't true, either way. He wasn't after her affections, nor was he interested, not in that way really. She was a means to an end and that was the truth. Saying the third rule aloud made it feel more real, not for her sake, but for his own. He needed to make himself believe his lie. Now, though, he regretted saying those words. She was closed off, but was that because of what he said or because of how he looked or was it the third thing, where he led an invasion on her world? He didn't know and he didn't want to find out, but if winning her over was how to lift the curse, then what else could he do?

"Lady Jane," he started, watching her movements carefully as she lifted her head ever so slightly so that she could peer at him without fully turning up her head. _Stubborn woman._ "How are you enjoying the food?"

Jane bit the inside of her cheek, keeping her bubbling anger in check. No matter what he said, it vexed her incessantly like a splinter stuck in her foot. Stop the idle chitchat. Why was he talking to her in the first place? That last rule stood out prominently in her mind, taunting her. He said that for a reason. She assumed he meant to put her on edge and it worked. Now they were seated at the same dinner table, eating Asgardian delicacies and he was making small talk as if this was the most normal, everyday event in their lives. She held back a cringe. She had just thought of something as 'theirs'. "It's fine," she replied, not taking her eyes from him, cautious that poison would somehow slip from his hand at any moment and taint her meal. Her eyes widened. Was that it? Was he trying to get her to let her guard down so he could poison her? No, no, that couldn't be it. If he wanted her dead, he'd have killed her by now. Wouldn't he? She set her jaw firmly. Get a grip. He was getting to her, but she wouldn't let him.

Odd, he thought. Her eyes widened. What could that be about? No matter. He'd ignore it for now. "That dress looks ravishing on you." Not an entire lie. The dress did accentuate her pleasing features, unlike her Midgardian clothes that were bulky and hid her figure.

Jane almost didn't hear him. "Anything's better than flannel and jeans." Again with the compliments. Seriously, what was his game? Loki, the monster who wreaked havoc on innocents in New York, asked her to love him? No, there had to be something else. A monster like that could never love anyone. Her brow knitted. Thor never talked about Loki like that. Whenever the tyrant was brought up, Thor would tell her about nicer times, about when they were younger, about how _she_ reminded him of Loki when he would get in a frenzy and study. That comment always made her cringe. She was aghast the first time Thor compared her to Loki, telling him that that was the most absurd thing she had ever heard. Then Thor explained that the younger Loki wasn't like the Kneel-Before-Me-Loki and she tried to take it as a compliment, but it was so hard for her to see any other Loki besides the latter. That was the only Loki she knew and she didn't care much to know more about that one. What more would she need to know about a heartless monster?

Loki was about to say something else when he noticed a candlestick approaching him. "Fandral?" he asked. "What is it?"

"How are things with the lady?"

"Splendid. She's head over heels for me. We're to marry tomorrow."

"Alright, alright. I get it." Fandral shook his head. Then he got an idea. "How's this? I'll talk to her. She's more comfortable with me and I'll figure out her interests. That should help for next time."

"I could ask her that," Loki sneered.

Fandral pursed his lips, raising his brows. "Would she answer as honestly?"

Loki leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes. "Talk to her."

Hopping over to the other end of the table, Fandral waved to get Jane's attention. The mortal raised a brow and then smiled. "Lady Jane," he greeted. "How lovely to see you this evening and in such a beautiful dress. It becomes you." He grinned playfully as she lifted him onto the table so she could see him better.

"Uh, hey. Thank you, uh, Mr. Candlestick," she said. Then she frowned, scrunching up her face. "I still can't believe this is happening."

"Believe it, vakker. This is real. How else would you explain my gorgeous face being engraved on wax?"

"A dream," she replied. "A very messed up dream."

"But, an enchanting dream, no? The beautiful mortal is taken to a realm of beauty and wonder. She meets the handsome candlestick and his charming partner, the teapot. And together they guide her through her journey."

"You left out the part about the wicked, blue prince," she said, taking another bite of what looked like lamb, but she wasn't sure what it was. Everything tasted really good though.

"Yes, wicked," Fandral agreed and then in a mysteriously lower tone, whispered, "And with a sensitive side."

Jane halted her fork half way, leaving her mouth gaping open. She lowered it, closing her mouth slowly. "Did you call Loki 'sensitive'?"

"No. I would never." Then in a quieter voice, "And is secretly sweet."

"Yes, there you go again. Why do you keep whispering weird things?"

Subconscious manipulation, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "Never mind that. I came over to ask after you."

Jane guessed she would let whatever that was slide for now. It was harmless anyway. "Me?"

"Yes. I've never had a chance to seduce a mortal before," he teased, giving her a good natured grin which she returned with a raised eyebrow and small smile. "The All-Father has kept travel to Midgard closed for a while now. Here I am in the presence of a mortal and such as it is, I was wondering if I could ask you a few things."

The scientist that she was could understand being curious about new things. She just never expected to be the new thing. "I see no harm in that. What would you like to know?"

"Oh, anything, really. Favorite hobby? Favorite color?" In a smaller voice, he mumbled, "Most preferable date?"

"What was that last one?"

"Have you anything on Midgard like a fruit we call, 'date'?"

"Um, we have, in fact, a fruit called that, but I have no idea if it's anything like the one on Asgard." The candlestick was acting weird again. He's been acting strange the whole time, really. What was with that?

"Really? Fascinating. Now about your hobby?" Did he sound rushed? No, of course not, he was Fandral. Fandral was smooth no matter what.

Why did he sound so rushed? Jane brushed off the thought. "Well, it's not much of a hobby; it's more my profession. I love the stars."

As she started going on and on about the stars, and the ones at home and everything's she's ever studied about them, Fandral did his best not to doze right off the table. She could talk. How could Thor stand to listen to so much yakking? The only one who could rival her was-! Fandral shot up ramrod straight, startling Jane out of her speech.

"Are you okay?" she asked, concerned by his sudden movement. Was he having some sort of furniture stroke?

Fandral waved his holders. "Nothing, it's nothing! I'm fine. Please, continue."

Jane frowned. "Are you sure? That was-"

"Positive," he assured, giving a hop to show he was okay. "Please go on. Tell me more about your stars."

She gave him a look, but continued on.

Fandral relaxed, lulling back into listening to her. As she went on, he couldn't help, but remember how when he was younger, when a black-haired boy used to talk the same way about anything, getting excited over every new discovery, going on and on and on...

"Fandral?"

"Huh?" He snapped, realizing Jane had asked him something. "I'm sorry, Milady. I was, er," he coughed, embarrassed. "Forgive me. I was… s-somewhere else." Somewhere very, _very_ far away.

"I was only telling you I was about to leave and get to bed." She must have been boring him to tears. She called him three times before he answered.

"Oh, yes, alright. Good night then, Lady Jane," He half bowed, flustered by the thoughts in his head, not fully aware how trivial his action seemed. But, he couldn't be bothered with proper common courtesy at the moment. Other things weighed heavily on his mind.

"Good night," she replied, standing from her chair. Then she looked up at Loki, who was paying close attention to the meal in front of him rather than her. As if he wasn't following her every move. "I'm going back to my room," she called over the distance so he could hear.

He looked up then, smiling at her with that fake, liar's smile she was accustomed to seeing every day. "Good night, Lady Jane." Then, as he did after all their meals, he said, "I could escort you to your room."

"I can find it myself now," she replied, already making a beeline to the door leading into the hall.

Loki's eyes followed her until she was gone. Once the door closed behind her, he beckoned for Fandral. The candlestick moved quickly, standing by the prince's boot. He opened his mouth to explain what he had learned, when he was stopped by Loki's growl.

"Are you the one trying to win her over?"

"What do you mean?" Fandral looked up at him in genuine confusion.

His eyes were darker, roiling with what might have been a hint of jealousy. Fandral hid his smirk behind his confusion. This could play out in their favor if the prince showed any sort of reaction over the mortal, no matter how petty it was.

"What was she smiling about?" he asked.

That brought him back to the conversation from earlier, not only bringing back the words, but what the words provoked Fandral to remember. He focused on the former. Loki would love to hear her talk about her fascination of the stars. He could appreciate one's love of knowledge. He gave a knowing smile. "Trust me. You'll want to ask her about it."

"She'll never tell me. She hates me."

Shrugging his holders, Fandral said, "Maybe you came on too strong."

"What do you mean?"

"Rule number three," he deadpanned.

Loki inwardly sighed. He knew that was too much. "If she doesn't know my intentions, how are we going to get anywhere?"

"Why not just wear a sign that says, 'I'm desperate'?"

"I _am_ desperate," Loki growled.

"Don't act like it." Even Fandral knew desperation was last resort. He absolutely avoided using the tactic at all costs.

"Just tell me what she told you," he demanded, impatient with his bickering.

"Stars. She loves the stars. Ever since she was a child, they captivated her." There was more he could have said. He could have told Loki how she reminded him of someone, someone he forgot about long ago, someone Sif claimed didn't exist anymore. He didn't. He'd let Loki discover that on his own. What else was love, if not finding out about a person on one's own?

"Stars?" Loki asked, narrowing his eyes. "What good does that information do me?"

Then again, love does need help. And he had no idea how long Loki had been out of the game. "Perhaps tomorrow, the next time she sits for dinner, you could somehow include stars in the dinner theme?"

Loki's lip twitched into a smirk. It was a start, nothing much, but it was something and from it Loki devised a plan for next evening's dinner.


	9. Nascent

 

Jane didn't go straight to bed like she had told Loki she would. Sif's words from earlier were still ringing in her head. The palace was hers to roam. She wasn't going to be confined to her room any longer. Not tonight, not right now. She was going to do what she wanted and she wanted to see what the palace had to offer. Standing in the hall outside the banquet room, she wondered which way to go. She decided to walk in the opposite direction of her room, going somewhere she knew she hadn't gone before. Throwing caution to the wind, she didn't realize she was on the verge of breaking one of the rules, not that she would care if she knew.

/

* * *

/

Thor lounged on the couch, having given up on understanding what Tony and Bruce were talking about. The man arrived soon after Tony called him and the two at once began working through Jane's data, riddling through her plans. Days had passed since and their efforts came up fruitless. Several prototypes had been made, but all failed to sustain a stable portal. Jane's laboratory would need a desperate remodeling once this was over.

"So, Loki has the scientist?" Steve, who sat next to Thor, asked, trying to comprehend the situation at hand. He arrived not too long ago, around noon when another hiccup resulted in an explosion in the lab. Building Bi-Frosts was a delicate work.

Thor nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, working out a kink that formed there soon after he fell to Midgard. "Yes," he said, curtly, dropping his hand on the couch cushion. "My brother has taken what matters most to me."

"How did this happen?"

Thor detested having to relate the story again for the fourth time, but knew he'd have to make sure his friend had all the details correct. Even if the Midgardian didn't understand a lick of what was going on.

Steve's brow twitched upward in confusion all too familiar on the man's face as he asked, "Someone has made all your planet's inhabitants disappear except for Loki?" Thor nodded. "And he's not the one behind this?" Suspicion was clear in the words.

"My brother would never willingly wear his Frost Giant visage. Someone, I know not who, has brought calamity on Asgard."

Not looking too convinced, Steve only nodded, leaning back in his chair, taking all of this in. Then he asked, "Where did that brunette go?"

"Lady Darcy?" Thor hadn't noticed her absence. She had been quiet as of late, which struck him as odd, but she must be shaken from receiving the news. Once she heard of what happened to Jane, she had only stared at him. Then she laughed, nervously, asking if it was some kind of joke. _"You don't mean to tell me that alien creep from New York has Jane."_ Not in those words, but he had meant to. And the sober calm that fell over her was more unsettling than if she had shouted and sobbed uncontrollably. That calm carried over the days when she would linger around Jane's observatory, sleeping in her guest room that she practically lived in anyway, and ghosting about the area. Thor didn't like this change in her. He was used to her eccentric personality and her 'can-do' attitude. It was what made her so… so… _what?_ Thor started wondering what it was he thought about the brunette woman. She was something, but he couldn't put his finger on what. Thoughts for later. Now he had to discern where she went. "I haven't seen her since you arrived. I should look for her." Her wellbeing mattered deeply to him for she was a dear friend.

Darcy was nowhere in the building. Thor didn't know where else she could be. She must have gone to the Midgardian school she called 'college'. Then he thought of one more place he hadn't checked. She wouldn't be there, would she?

Thor stood and watched from a distance for a while, realizing the situation was a delicate one. He found her and she was in the place he hadn't checked. He should've known. It was where she went the first day she found out about Jane and where she stayed for hours after that. Sitting on an outspread blanket, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them and head tilted upward, Darcy sat on the outer circle of the Bi-Frost and stared up into the skies.

Thor settled down next to her on the edge of the blanket, greeting her, "Lady Darcy."

Her head flickered to the left, gazing at him and then went back to the sky. "Hey, Thunder Boy," she whispered, her voice meek as it was in those days.

"Are you faring well?" he asked. Then he realized how stupid the question was. Of course, she wasn't. He quickened to amend his blunder. "I'm sorry. That was… I know you must-"

Darcy looked at him, shaking her head. "Cool it, would you? It's alright. It's okay to worry about friends." She glanced down and then back at the sky. "It's natural to worry."

Thor nodded. "Of course, and I am worried for Jane, but I am worried for you as well."

"It's fine, big guy. I'm okay." She breathed sharply through her nose, closing her eyes. When she opened them, she said, "Needed to clear my head is all."

He fell silent. He hadn't known Darcy long, only for as long as he knew Jane, but he and the brunette hung out on occasion when Jane was busy with one of her breakthroughs and he had grown accustomed to her 'smart mouth' and quirky remarks. This Darcy was not that Darcy. This one was solemn, reserved, always contemplating something. "I need to clear my head as well," he told her.

"Knock yourself out."

A smile spread on his lips. Her expressions were so amusing. Hopefully this mess would be over soon so that he could have Jane and his friend back.

/

* * *

/

"Well?" Sif prompted when the candlestick hopped over to her after Loki left for his room. "What happened? What did you talk to Loki and Jane about?"

"I asked Jane her interests and now Loki's working out a plan to incorporate them into the next dinner date," he explained.

Sif frowned. "You are calling these 'dates'?"

"I'm counting anything I can get. It's not like there's much chance for that kind of thing. Especially after he dropped rule number three on her."

"That was a good move on his part."

Fandral gave her a bewildered look. "Good? How was that anything other than a complete wreck?"

"How is he going to get anywhere with her if she doesn't know his intentions?"

"That was too strong. He's scaring her away. Love needs to take its time."

"Time isn't something we have. He needs to be bolder. And Jane's not scared."

Fandral sighed and then realized something. Sif was right, but not in the way she thought. "Sif, what interests you?"

Her brow arched. "What foolish question is this?"

"A fool is doing the asking, so it is only natural for the question to be foolish." He smiled. "Come now, Sif. Humor me. We haven't talked for a long time and when we're brought together it's when we're turned into furniture and getting Loki to romance the mortal Jane." His smile grew into a grin at how absurd it all was. "Let's take a moment to pretend we're normal."

Sif eyed him. Then she said, "Sword fighting." Fandral laughed, causing the teapot to grimace. "What?" she spat.

He pulled himself together and grinned unabashedly at her. "Sif, I know this. Your swordsmanship is outstanding. I meant, other than that."

"Nothing."

"There has to be something."

"No."

Fandral gave her a mockingly disapproving look. "You're being wickedly stubborn."

"I answered your question."

"Then here is a new question. What do you like to do besides sword fighting?" He smirked, watching her expectantly.

"You are exasperating."

"That's not an answer unless what you like to do is let me exasperate you."

"Fine. Don't tell anyone," she warned. He smiled, raising his eyebrows, waiting. She sighed. "I like to cook. I'm not good or anything. My hands are better with a sword, but I sometimes like to make things."

Fandral hadn't expected that answer. He hadn't expected one at all. The concept of her standing in a kitchen, spoon in hand like a housewife was disconcerting compared to the image he knew all his life of a woman, sword in hand with the glint of battle in her eyes, fearless. Then he imagined the woman with the spoon beating the life out of a beast and it all made sense again. "We could cook something," he suggested suddenly, wanting to see her skills in action.

She stared at him, baffled and then scoffed. "I can't do anything in this form."

"How _did_ you make those waffles for Jane?"

She frowned. "We'll cook something. But, then I don't want to hear any more about this."

Fandral held out his holder, bowing slightly. "Lead the way."

/

* * *

/

Jane found a staircase leading up into one of the towers, or so she assumed. Where else would it go? The steps narrowed as she rose higher, but the staircase was never too small for her and she didn't know whether to be thankful for the advantage or let her pride be struck by a blow to her height by a passageway. _Even the hallways are mocking me_ , she thought with a laugh. What was to be expected when the race of people were probably as tall as Thor. She grimaced. Thinking about him only reminded her of how distraught he looked when she offered to switch places and threw herself into this nightmare. What was he doing now? She had hoped he and Tony would run into each other and start pulling together a plan to eradicate this disaster. Her foot stopped on a step as her face paled and her breath caught. What if Thor couldn't get to Asgard? She gulped, pushing those thoughts aside. He would come. She would never doubt his determination. Tony had her Bi-Frost plans. That relaxed her entirely. Tony opened a wormhole. With more modifications, he would have to be able to create one stable enough to get to Asgard. He was Tony Stark. If he was as amazing as his arrogant attitude advertised then there was no doubt he'd be able to do it. Hopefully.

Jane continued her ascent up the stairs, curious to find more of the palace yet to be discovered, when she arrived at the top and found a closed door.

/

* * *

/

Thor felt the silence drawing between them heavily. It wasn't a comfortable, but an awkward silence, one where he was intruding on Lady Darcy's space and suddenly he really shouldn't have been there. She came out here to be alone. He had no right being there. He shifted to move, when her voice halted him.

"What did you think of the Rubix Cube?" Her face remained skyward.

Thor took this as an invitation to stay, relieved she was talking. "Frustrating. I much more enjoyed the Pockets of Hot."

Darcy snorted in surprise, turning to look at him with a smile on her face. "They're called, 'Hot Pockets'."

"That's what I said." Their name did not matter. In that moment, Darcy smiled, a real, beaming smile, for the first time since she received the news and Thor couldn't have been happier that he was the one to elicit it.

/

* * *

/

Fandral stood by, impatiently, waiting for the trio to show him how in the nine realms limbless objects cooked anything. "Well, Lady Sif?" he prompted. "Show me the magic of cooking."

Hogun and Volstagg began shuffling over to a cabinet when Sif said, "Stop. Don't move."

Fandral looked from her to the spice shakers in confusion. "I thought we were going to cook. I wanted to see how you made those waffles."

Sif raised a brow. "We're not." She smirked. "You are."

He stared at her as if she lost her mind. "What is the meaning of this? You said you would show me how to cook something."

"Since you want to know, you have to do it. All of it." She looked so pleased with herself.

"That's not fair," he told her matter-of-factly. "I wanted to see how you managed without limbs."

"You do it or I walk."

His lips tugged upward. "You can't really walk, so…"

"I'm leaving." She turned her body towards the door.

"Fine, I'll do it," Fandral sighed. "Where do I start?"

/

* * *

/

The door Jane discovered had no lock and it gave way with a slight yank of the doorknob, leading into a dark room. There was soft light, silvery and blue cast about from a source she could not see. From the high ceiling, curtains hung to the floors, ripped to pieces and chairs laid everywhere in splinters. Jane began walking through the chaos, wondering what happened, and noticed portraits were also strewn about the mess, most were torn to shreds. One was not entirely destroyed, she realized, coming upon a portrait propped against a broken chair. The canvas was cut at the top, leaving the painting to fold over itself, obscuring it. All she could see was the bottom, where it looked to be the shoulders of someone in some sort of green clothing. She crouched down, picking up the folded piece and held it to the top. It was a man with black hair and sharp blue eyes. Jane reeled back, letting the painting fold in on itself and stumbled, trying to put as much distance between her and the portrait as she could. His skin was paler and there were no markings, but she recognized that face and those cold, blue eyes.

/

* * *

/

"Hey?" Darcy said after a short pause. "Let's get out of the dirt and go do something."

"What?" Thor asked, glad to see her wanting to 'do something.'

She shrugged. "They re-opened that diner."

He grinned. "I would enjoy accompanying you."

Her smile wasn't as strong as usual, but this was a far cry from a few days ago when she wouldn't say a word.

/

* * *

/

Sif couldn't stifle a laugh at Fandral's blunder. The candlestick went to fetch flour the recipe called for and ended up letting it fall on top of him, covering him completely. She regretted telling the others to leave. This would've been funny for everyone. "Most wouldn't use themselves to measure out the ingredients," she said.

Fandral looked at her warily, shaking himself to get the powder off. "It's not as easy as it looks," he conceded.

Sif sighed, shuffling next to him. "Alright, move over. You're a mess."

His eyes widened in surprise. "You're going to cook?"

"I'm helping, but you're doing most of the work," she corrected.

Fandral smiled. They were working together on something. He was counting this.

/

* * *

/

Jane noticed deeper into the room there was a balcony with moonlight pooling through it. Out on the ledge was a lone table and sitting atop was a glass container with a strange, blue glow inside. She was drawn to it, mesmerized. Her feet carried her to the balcony, the glow singing to her. As she neared it, she realized it was a frosted, blue rose. Her hands reached out of their own accord and she removed the glass entrapping it. Now so close, the glow seemed to brighten, engulfing everything around her in darkness. The only existence was this rose. She longed to touch it. Her hand almost brushed the petals.

A growl brought her to her senses and she drew her hand back, turning around with a start. Suddenly a large boom of thunder roared outside, followed by lightning, illuminating the Frost Giant prince in stark white.

Jane gasped, clutching at her heart and then relaxed, seeing it was only Loki. "Sheesh," she seethed. "What is with the theatrics?" She gestured towards the window. "You could just enter a room normally. What was that thunder?"

Loki frowned at her. "Are you somehow blaming me for…?" He groaned. "Never mind that." His brow furrowed in anger and he bellowed, "What are you doing here? This is the West Wing. You are forbidden from entering this room."

"How was I supposed to know that?" Jane blurted out. "I don't know where anything is. How am I supposed to know where the West Wing is?" Then she glanced to the side and added as an afterthought, "Well, now I do." Doubling her fists, she spat, "Oh, that's not the point. I didn't know before I came here, so you have no right to be angry and yelling at me."

/

* * *

/

Darcy stopped mid-chew of her salad, grimacing.

Thor looked up at her in concern. "What is it?" he asked.

Placing her fork down, she turned to him and narrowed her eyes. "I had the weirdest feeling that Jane…" She looked to the side, her face scrunching up in confusion before looking back at him. "That Jane just sassed someone." She shrugged. "I give her a six." And she went back to eating her salad, leaving Thor to wonder what just happened.

/

* * *

/

Fandral stopped mid-stir.

Sif scowled at him. "What are you doing? If you stop stirring the mix, it clods up."

He started slowly stirring again, but a haunted look passed over his face. "I'm sorry. It's just…" He frowned. "I had the strangest feeling that Loki got sassed."

"It's about time," Sif huffed. "Now keep stirring."

/

* * *

/

Bruce stopped mid-sentence.

Tony stared at him. "And?"

Bruce shook his head. "I had the weirdest feeling…" He cocked an eyebrow, a smirk lighting his face. "That a teapot and a candleholder are making waffles." He grinned at Tony.

The billionaire tilted his head. "Me, too." They high-fived. "Alright, back to work."

/

* * *

/

Loki deflated. She wasn't wrong. But, she knew better. She didn't know where it was. The more he thought about it, the more he realized his outburst was uncalled for, but he didn't want to come out and admit it. "This room is forbidden," he told her, ignoring her indignant look.

"Yeah, I figured that out," she said. Then she glanced back at the rose. "Why though? It's nothing, but a room full of broken furniture and pictures. And whatever this is." She squared him with a look. "What's with it anyway?"

Loki walked around her, careful not to brush against her, and picked up the container, placing it over the rose once again. Without looking at her, he said, "It is none of your concern." Setting her with his sharp gaze, he said lowly, "Now leave."

"No, not until you tell me why you didn't want me to see this." She stood firmly.

"The rose doesn't involve you." Not really. She wasn't tied to it directly. "You've broken a rule and I demand you leave and never return to this room."

"I won't. As long as you tell me what's so important about it and before you say, no, I'd like to remind you that I live here now, so anything within the confines of this palace concerns me, too. I have a right to know." It was funny how easily she forgot she was a prisoner.

Loki glared at her. He didn't want her finding out about the rose ever. He didn't want to have to tell the truth about its purpose. However, this could be a moment to gain a fraction of her trust. "You are right. You deserve to know," he said, walking around the table towards her. She stepped back. "The person who cursed Asgard gave me this rose and declared that it would signify how long until the curse becomes permanent." A startled look crossed her face. Fandral didn't tell her much at all. That was good. "That's right, Jane. When this rose thaws, the curse can never be lifted and I, and the rest of Asgard's subjects, will be trapped like this for eternity."

"E-eternity," Jane stuttered. "The curse could be forever?"

Why she insisted on having him repeat such trivial things, he couldn't fathom, but for her sake, he nodded. "Yes. For every day and every night for the rest of eternity until the nine realms are met with Ragnarok will Asgard be under this curse." He gestured towards the glass container behind him. "When that rose thaws, there's nothing to reverse this."

"There's a cure then," she said suddenly, her mind reeling from this shock of new information. "There has to be. There wouldn't be a time limit if there wasn't a cure." She looked up at him with hope in her eyes. "What else did that person say? The one who gave you the rose. What did he say? There must have been a riddle or something?"

The irony was not lost on Loki that this was the longest conversation the two had had and it was after he yelled at her instead of endlessly complimenting her through his teeth. "This isn't a fairytale, Jane. There was no riddle. He didn't say some whimsical words that I would have to decipher. He threw a curse upon Asgard and left." Shaking his head, he added, in a forlorn tone, "Not even a good-bye kiss."

Jane felt her lip quiver in surprise and almost smiled. Did Loki, make-everyone-kneel-Loki, just make a joke? She frowned again. "Nothing? How could he not tell you what you had to do?"

"It's a curse, Jane. He's not going to hand over the cure. He did this with a purpose in mind." One that Loki couldn't understand the benefit of. Who wanted him to find someone so bad that he became subject to a curse?

Jane knew that was reasonable logic. The one who cursed Asgard must have wanted to gain something in the progress, but if the person didn't tell them what he wanted, then how was he going to gain anything other than a lot of furniture and a Frost Giant? The possibility to weaken Asgard came to mind, but did Asgard have enemies so powerful that they could hinder the entire realm? If so, then they would've attacked by now, and they wouldn't have left the second Asgardian prince in a different form than everyone else. Jane closed her eyes with a sigh. None of this made sense. There had to have been more of a clue. Loki had to know. He just wasn't telling her. Or maybe he really didn't. She couldn't know for sure. "Alright," she said, finally. "I won't come back up here. There's not much for me to do anyway." What was she going to do with a frozen rose? "I'm going to bed."

"Are you?" Loki asked, narrowing his eyes at her. "As I recall, you were going to bed earlier and here I found you in the one area of the palace I told you not to wander."

"Again, you never showed me where it was," she shot back. "And I'm going to bed for real this time."

"I don't trust you."

She looked at him in amazement. "You don't trust me?"

"How can I after you lied to me?" His face was completely serious.

"Coming from the king of liars," she said, incredulous.

"God," he corrected. "And it's God of Mischief."

"Same thing." She waved her hand dismissively. Was she really having this conversation with Loki? "I am going back to bed. If you don't believe me, that's your problem."

"I'm escorting you and that's final."

"I don't need- you know what? Fine. Fine. Let's just go already. I need to sleep after this-" She gestured around the room. "whatever this is." She turned and started out the door.

Loki watched her retreating form for a moment before trailing after her. With her back to him, he smirked.


	10. Tumult

 

To be fair, Jane was not prepared for what the day would bring. It started out normally enough. She awoke, had a moment of confusion as she wondered where she was and then remembered she was a prisoner in Asgard. Then she went to take her daily shower. Afterwards she wandered around the palace, careful to avoid a certain set of stairs and meandered around the halls, eventually ending up in the kitchen, the only place she actually knew how to get to and from. Talked with the spice shakers – if that didn't sound too bizarre by itself – and then had some waffles. The day began decently normal, considering the circumstances. It was when she returned to her room, lacking anything better to do, that things started rolling on the weird train.

On her bed, which was always clear of extra obscurities, had a folded piece of paper atop it and a single rose. Her blood ran cold the moment her eyes lighted upon them. The third rule again taunted her. She gritted her teeth, picking up the note, avoiding contact with the rose altogether. In cursive letters, it read:

" _Dearest Jane,_

_Accompany me for a special dinner tonight, held in your honor._

\- _L"_

Jane's eyes ran over the letter two more times, making sure she read it correctly, but the unease growing in her stomach didn't stop and she knew the implications of the note. She didn't want to believe it, but it was hard to ignore what was printed right in front of her face. Loki was playing a trick that involved winning her over. If that wasn't sick, she didn't know what was. It was one thing to not like your brother, but this went above and beyond brother quarrels. She was not in any way involved with whatever those two's problems were. There was no way she was going to that 'special' dinner.

/

* * *

/

"You're going."

" _What_?"

Sif rolled her eyes. "What did we talk about?"

"Yeah, I know. Don't let him win, but, Sif, he's… he's…" _In a very weird and uncomfortable way, flirting,_ Jane finished in her head, but couldn't bring herself to say the words aloud.

"I understand he's been forward," Sif began.

"Forward? You call _attempting_ – emphasis on attempting - to steal your brother's-" She hesitated here, only a moment, unsure of just what she was to Thor and settled with, "date 'forward'?" Jane continued, "Loki is nothing, but cruel. And this sick game of his has to stop. I am putting an end to it now. I'm not attending the dinner."

Sif arrived soon after Jane read the note and once Jane explained what was going on and declared she wasn't going the teapot surprised her by telling her that she had to. The candleholder was obviously trying to steer her towards the second prince, so why not the other talking object? She expected Sif to side with her, though, and that was disappointing. How could she not see how strange all this was?

"Lady Jane, if you cower in your room-"

"He'll win," Jane bit out. "I don't care if he wins. I'm staying in my room and I'm not attending his 'special' dinner." Under her breath, she hissed, "The creep."

Sif caught the last part and held back a cringe. There was a strange mixture of pride and ill-will towards the mortal. Pride in the fact she was so resistant towards the prince and ill-will because the curse wasn't going to lift itself. The latter wasn't as strong, seeing how she could not force the mortal to do anything if her heart would not allow it, something the warrior knew too well. "Lady Jane, if you stay in your room, Loki will surely find other ways to acquire your company." She let that sentence hang in the air for a few moments, letting it sink in.

Jane paled. Then she frowned, furrowing her brow angrily. "I'm going, but he's not going to like it."

Sif didn't like the sound of that. Then again, she did want the mortal to survive rather than bend to the whims of false love. This could end up entertaining. "What dress will you wear?"

/

* * *

/

Jane wasn't a romantic person at heart or at all, really. No one has ever made the effort before, nor has she done so. Thor was the closest she ever came to a 'big romantic gesture' and that wasn't saying much. Their most romantic evening was when he dropped by unexpected while she was deep in her work and she was so ecstatic by his appearance that she dropped everything and flew to her kitchen, hastily throwing together a batch of coffee because she had nothing else to offer and the two sat outside beneath the stars while she began rambling off all she knew about them. The night ended with a kiss. He had to get back to S.H.I.E.L.D. and she to her work. The rest of her work time was nothing, but a buzz and she couldn't focus on anything but the tingling in her lips. How did he have that effect on her when he did nothing at all? Because he was Thor. Because he was kind, sweet and loyal. Because he meant so much to her and yet she still couldn't say the words 'I love you' when she thought of him. There was 'like'. She knew she liked him a lot. But, love was a leap away and she wasn't ready to make that jump.

So, standing in the banquet hall entrance, Jane didn't know what to expect when she walked in for dinner. Another awkward conversation was to be expected, of course, especially after that note, but this she couldn't have anticipated. And the only word that came to mind was 'romantic', but not the kind she would want. It was romantic, but in a horrifyingly cheesy way, the kind that came out of a movie and she knew she wanted nothing to do with. Not when it involved _him_. A part of her entertained the idea of if Thor had planned this and a half smile spread on her face, only to be quickly turned into a frown. This wasn't Thor's plan. This wasn't Thor's romantic endeavor. It was Loki's. Thor's brother. And it was all wrong. Every last bit of it.

The lights were dimmed, casting the room almost completely in darkness. Above the table, there were thousands of pinpricks of lights, some small, some large, all of it together replicating the familiar sky that hung over her home in New Mexico.

Romantic was a word most would describe this, but Jane only felt bitter. Bitter towards Loki for his efforts at pulling off something as cruel as this. The stars were hers. They were everything to her, her life's work. These ones were especially important. She knew them intimately. They were the ones she gazed up at each night, the ones she found comfort in. Thor looked up into these same stars many nights with her. They weren't meant to be used in a petty ploy to garner her attention. The anger in the pit of her stomach rose to a boil, rising fast into her throat, creating sharp edged words that rumbled across her tongue. Her eyes found Loki, who was seated at the opposite end of the table, staring at her. She saw his mouth move, but she beat him to it.

"How dare you do this?" she accused, her voice hot with anger.

Loki stared at her, blinked once and then asked, "Do you not like it?"

Does she not like it? Does she not _like_ it? The question was so galling, Jane almost couldn't form words, she was so angry. "No, I don't like it. How can I when all of this is some childish attempt at besting your brother?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't know what your problem is with him, but leave me out of it. I'm not getting in between whatever issues you have with each other."

Loki's face remained calm; in fact, he didn't seem the least bothered about any of this. The only change was his fist slightly tightening as she spoke. "Jane," his voice was smooth, even. "This is all done for you. It has nothing to do with him."

"Then tell me why you're doing this. Why are you doing any of this? And the third rule? Tell me about that." With each word, her voice got louder, and she stepped closer until she stood at her end of the table, staring down it at Loki, raging.

"There's nothing to tell. I've told you before, I desire your company. Surely, there's nothing wrong with that."

"With what intentions?" she shot back. "Love isn't mere company. There are implications."

Loki smirked here and asked, "And what implications are you inferring?"

Feeling bold, she said, "The kind of implications between Thor and I."

Loki was no longer smirking.

/

* * *

/

Fandral didn't want to use the word 'disaster', but there weren't many other ways to describe what he was watching right now. He didn't want the teapot next to him to hear he was wrong, though. "What a lovely evening," he said instead.

Sif sighed. "Where were you to stop this?"

He played a cool look on his face. "Who would want to stop this?"

"Please admit you are wrong already."

"There's nothing to admit."

"Fandral."

"What?" He turned to her, finding a frown marring her face. "Alright, it's bad. But, really, who could have anticipated this?"

The two watched from the side as Loki and Jane continued in their screaming match, the prince now out of his seat, standing at one end while Jane stood at the other. Loki had planned the dinner to have a star theme and he created star illusions to hang over them while they dined, Fandral having suggested he used familiar stars like the ones that hung over her home. Only instead of being wowed, Jane saw the constellations and immediately began yelling. The reaction was so startling no one knew what to do. When Loki tried to calm her down, it only led to her yelling more, which caused him to start yelling back and now here they were in the middle of a full-fledged argument about what, no one knew. The two at this point were spouting nonsense that neither the candlestick, nor the teapot could follow.

Fandral breathed a chuckle, prompting a look from Sif. "What is so funny?" she asked. "This is not exactly helping."

"They sound like an old married couple," he explained, smiling.

"That is not what we're going for."

"Yes, they skipped falling in love and went straight to lovers' bickering."

Sif scoffed. "More like lovers' death match."

Then Jane said something that made the whole room stop.

"How can I ever love you? You are a monster. You're nothing like Thor."

Everyone held their breath.

"She did not just say…" Fandral trailed off. "She knows not the power of those words." He knew. He had watched before as similar words undid the second prince. The scene played out the same.

Loki's fists were clutched at his side, his jaw set so tight, Fandral thought he might snap it in half. "Leave," Loki seethed, darkly, through jagged, black teeth. "Before I make you regret those words."

Jane obliged and stormed out of the hall, slamming the door loudly.

"What is he going to do?" Sif asked.

"If he's smart, he'll go after her."

Loki stood, not moving. Then he slowly sat in his seat without a word.

Sif shook from side-to-side in what would have been a head shake and said, "I'll see to her." And with a few hops, she made her way out of the room.

Fandral and Loki sat in the banquet hall in silence. Neither breathed a word.

Hopping over to the table, Fandral waited next to Loki's chair, wondering what he could possibly say to begin the horrors of this conversation. Nonetheless, it needed to get started one way or another. "You should've written 'please' in your letter," he said off-handedly, half hoping it would lift the dark mood that settled around them.

"Shut up," Loki muttered, not in the mood for jokes it would seem.

Fandral sighed, wondering where everything fell apart. Was it when she walked in and saw the decorations or was it when she received the letter? She seemed tense from the second she walked in, but there was only one moment when everything really became unhinged. Thor. When she mentioned him, it was over. Nothing could put the words back in her mouth. Nothing could make her un-say it. The coldness that glazed Loki's eyes was haunting.

"She isn't my type."

Fandral startled from his thoughts, glancing up at the blue prince curiously. This wasn't where he thought the conversation would go, but he was now interested to hear where this was going. "What is your type?" he asked.

Loki leaned heavily into his chair, replying, "Crazy isn't a part of it."

Fandral smirked. "Crazy might be compatible with you."

Loki scowled at him, asking, "How can anyone win over such an insane woman?"

"Give her flowers, chocolates, make her promises you never intend to keep…"

Loki rolled his eyes. "Fandral, I have more romantic talent in my little finger than you do in your entire body. Nothing you suggest will work."

Fandral snorted. "I highly doubt that."

"Watch me."

Loki waved his hand and transformed the entire banquet hall.

Fandral's jaw hit the floor. Alright, he was impressed. He blinked. Gesturing to his right, he asked, "Are those... singing swans?"

Loki smirked.

Fandral acquiesced, "Well, this is impressive..."

Loki prompted, "But?"

Fandral held up his holders. "But - and this is a big but - I don't think Jane will go for any of this."

Loki frowned. "So, you're suddenly an expert on Jane?"

Fandral hurried to amend his words. "That's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying she doesn't seem to enjoy any of..." He gestured vaguely. " _This_. She really seems to like the stars, and I was thinking, it's not like she can see them locked up in the palace..." He trailed off, unsure how to phrase it. He was thinking about this ever since his talk with Jane about her interests. The show Loki put on in the banquet hall was too much. There were better means to see the stars. Hopefully, he would see that.

"Are you suggesting I let her go?"

"No, not that." Fandral took a breath. This was harder to say than he expected. "What I mean, escort her. Lead her to a picnic or whatever, somewhere she can see the stars. She'll be in swoon." He paused, raising his brows. "She might be more willing to talk."

Loki frowned. "I don't need talk. I need…" He hesitated and then with a disgusted look, finished, "love."

"If you want love, you have to be more open as well. And don't make that face. Do you want to get rid of this curse? Then quit acting like fire's raining down on us. Maybe neither of you can learn to love each other, not right away. These things take time-"

"I don't have time!" Loki shouted.

"Then make it!" Fandral shouted back. "Love doesn't just happen because of a few big gestures of romance - I should know!" He heaved a sigh, deflating slightly, but his resolve remained strong. "Loki, get to know her and I mean, really know her. Find out her quirks and her thoughts; find out what she likes and doesn't like. Maybe love isn't in the near future, but friendship could be." Then, more for himself, he added, "Friendship can lead to love."

Loki didn't respond right away. The silence stretched for a beat too long and Fandral worried he lost him and the prince would leave without acknowledging any of his advice. Then, without looking at him, Loki said quietly, "Where can one see the stars best?"

Fandral smiled.


	11. Halcyon

 

Jane woke up feeling sour. Yesterday evening was fresh in her mind and with it all the angry thoughts. Loki setting up that dinner – _she was not using the word 'date'_ – was obviously another attempt on her attentions. Well, if he thought he was getting anything from her, he was mistaken. Her attention was on Thor. She groaned. Not even in private could she conjure the word 'love' when thinking about Thor. She loved his smile. She loved the endearing way he didn't understand most 'Midgardian' things. But, she wasn't sure she loved _him_. This was not what she needed. She was supposed to be a prisoner, not rethinking her entire relationship with Thor, if she could even call it that. It was Loki's fault. Ever since she arrived, he had done nothing, but act like a gentleman - at least as best he could - calling her 'beautiful', offering to escort her around the palace, sitting with her for meals – it was all too much. All of it was an act and for what else, but to take a stab at Thor. Their problems with each other – or more rather Loki's with Thor – didn't make any sense. Jane couldn't understand why Thor talked kindly of Loki, only pointing out the good from the past, whereas Loki refused to talk about Thor at all.

A shot of guilt jolted her gut. The look on Loki's face when she compared him to Thor was also fresh in her mind. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was there. His face for half a second lost its calm demeanor and she caught a glimpse of something else. She didn't know what it was, only that it was not anything she had seen on his face before and the look didn't suit his usual, all over cold exterior. She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing into her bed, banishing the image from her mind. She didn't feel bad. She wouldn't let him make her feel bad. Everything was a trick. Everything was an act. She couldn't trust anything he did.

A knock made her bolt upright in bed. "Who is it?" she asked, hoping beyond all odds it wasn't who she thought it was.

"Fandral, Lady Jane, it is I."

She relaxed, sighing in relief as she made her way to the door to let him in. "Hey. Why are you here?"

The candlestick hopped into the room as she closed the door behind him. "Oh, nothing, nothing." His eyes were perusing her furniture casually as he shuffled around. Then he looked up at her with a grin. "Can't one frequent the room of a gorgeous lady?"

Loki wasn't the only one showering her in compliments. "Not if she doesn't know the one's intentions." Her eyebrow arched as she waited for the real reason he was there.

Fandral didn't seem to be in any hurry and took his time approaching her bed as she sat back down. "Well," he started. "What other reason than to gaze upon your loveliness?"

Being flirted by a candlestick. Jane couldn't think of any stranger situations. "Out with it. What do you want?"

"Alright, you caught me. I came here to ask a question concerning my friend."

"Your friend?"

"Yes, a friend of mine."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Who is this friend of yours?"

"Another candlestick fellow, I'm sure you ran into him around the palace."

A candlestick, huh? Jane smiled knowingly. "Now that you mention it, yes, I have run into another candlestick."

"That's him." Fandral nodded. "So, my friend is having lady troubles."

"Lady troubles?"

"Yes. The kind you wouldn't believe."

"And you're telling me this?" It took all her efforts to suppress a giggle that threatened to rise from the back of her throat.

"There's no one else to talk to and you're an outside source. You aren't biased to the situation."

"Alright, fair enough." Not that she was any help in the field of romance, but her curiosity was peaked and she had to hear what troubles the candlestick found him in. From what she remembered Thor telling her, he was excellent with women, so this had to be interesting if he was coming to her of all people. "So, this friend of yours? What's wrong?"

"Something tragic has happened. The unspeakable. It is a fate worse than death."

Jane's brow knitted in concern. "That sounds serious. What happened?"

"He thinks he has a thing for his friend."

Jane took it back. _This_ took all her efforts not to burst out into a full on laugh. Biting her tongue, she reined it in until she knew her voice would sound normal and said in a rush, "Why is that bad?"

Fandral looked galled. "Why? Why is it bad? Milady, it is unthinkable, unheard of for me – _I mean -_ my friend to have feelings for a woman beyond a good time. Besides, she is a dear friend to him. He cherishes her friendship." Then in a quieter voice, he asked, "What if she never speaks to him again?"

Jane was at a loss for words. Her experience with romance was very limited. But, there was one thing she thought of. "Look, Fandral, you, I mean, your friend should just be honest with her. Women appreciate it when guys tell the truth."

Fandral didn't say anything for a moment and then he nodded once. "Lady Jane, you are a kind soul and I shall tell my friend your advice."

After she let him out, Fandral waited until the door closed before shaking his head. "As if I'm going to tell her," he muttered. "She'd have my head."

Not yet, at least. For now, the candlestick had a better plan. Remembering a vase of flowers perched atop one of the dining tables, he hurried to the banquet hall.

/

* * *

/

Another knock sounded at Jane's door almost as soon as she sat down. It hadn't been long since Fandral left, barely a few seconds, so she thought he came back for more advice and went straight to open the door. "Fandral, what else did you-" She stopped her sentence short on seeing blue. All words left her when her eyes locked with red ones.

Loki was surprised the door swung open so quickly. There was a moment's pause as he wondered why she thought he was the candleholder. None of that was of concern right now. He had others things to worry about. Like how he was going to tell Jane about his proposal without her blowing up like yesterday. He had no idea what brought that on and was sore about it. He hadn't the time to feel bitter towards her - though he was – he had to move this 'love' business along. He conjured the words, but before he spoke them, Jane beat him to it… again.

"What is it?" she asked. Was that a hint of guilt? He wondered what that was about.

Polite, he reminded himself, pushing all thought of yesterday clear from his head. "Jane Foster, I hoped you would join me-"

"No."

He stared at her, perplexed by how fast she answered. She didn't know what he was about to offer. He couldn't say he was surprised, though. Why would she want to spend time with him? "Perhaps, if that is how you feel, then I will watch the stars alone." He watched her face carefully to gauge her reaction.

Surprise lit her features instantly, followed soon by suspicion and caution. What else could one expect? He was the God of Mischief. Having doubts towards his word was expected. After all, he wasn't _Thor_. Loki swallowed back the bile in his throat and waited for her response.

"Stargazing?" she asked. "As in _outside_ of the palace?"

Loki indulged her insistence of repeating the obvious and nodded. "Yes, we will leave the palace. Unless you know a better place to see the stars?"

Jane took a moment to process those words. Loki was asking her to watch the stars with him. _Outside_. As in, they would leave the palace. The idea of getting fresh air was so appealing she almost forgot _who_ she would be spending that time with. Loki. Destroyer-of-New-York-Loki. Kneel-before-me-Loki. Most-likely-to-steal-kittens-Loki. _She wouldn't put it past him._ Here he was again, another romantic scheme brewing, and he might as well be offering her all the gold in Asgard. She wanted nothing more than to see, let alone have enough time to _study_ Asgard's stars and after what had to be a week or two locked up in the palace – _no stars_ – here comes Loki, telling her that he wanted to show her them. If he wasn't who he was and she wasn't in a hostage situation, this would top every single romantic endeavor anyone has ever tried to do for her. That was pathetic, she knew, but really, what could possibly top being asked to see an alien's planets stars? Even if it was with Loki. "When are you going?" she asked, finally.

Loki quietly let go of a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and said, "Around dinner. I was planning on bringing a picnic to enjoy while the sun went down."

Jane wouldn't hear the end of it if Darcy ever found out about this. Back before she met Thor, Darcy would rave to Jane about how her future husband would end up being a foreign guy who would come up to her and offer her to go on a picnic under the stars. _"If that happens, Jane,_ marry _him. That is your man." This is certainly not my man._ He wasn't her anything. He definitely wasn't her _future_ anything, either. An evening outside wouldn't mean anything, would it? It was only stargazing. And she wanted to leave the confines of the palace so bad. Then for a split second, Darcy's voice rang through her head, _Well, he_ is _foreign._ Shut up, Darcy.

"I'll go," she said. Then she quickly added, "To see the stars. That's it."

Loki nodded. "To see the stars," he repeated. "I'll be here by dinner to escort you. Don't be late." With that, he left.

/

* * *

/

When Loki came to her room, she was in another green dress. This one was longer than the others, cutting off near her ankles and had no sleeves. Jane specifically picked this one when the thought dawned on her that they would be alone. Not alone in the banquet hall or kitchen, but really alone. As in, no spice shakers, no teapot, and no flirtatious candleholder. _Alone_. While they dined alone, they weren't really as Fandral and Sif were always standing at the sides, and in the kitchen the spice shakers were always there. Now they were leaving the palace, meaning they were leaving the safety of others. Jane cringed. She chose this dress because it was the most modest and, at least in her mind, it conveyed 'I'm-not-interested-in-your-schemes-leave-me-alone'.

"Lady Jane," he greeted her. "You look lovely."

"Thanks," she replied politely, reminding herself to act civil. He was taking her to see the stars after all. She couldn't complain about that.

He nodded. "The stars are waiting for us."

She stepped out of her room, noting the basket in Loki's hand and waited by his side. "Alright. Lead the way."

Silence was becoming a frequent acquaintance between the two of them. Jane didn't have anything to say and likewise, he kept his mouth shut as they wound through the palace. Soon they went through the entrance and started on a paved path.

"Where are we going?" Jane asked, too curious to remain quiet.

Loki glanced at her. "Not too far," he replied. "There is a hill near the palace where the stars are better seen."

Jane noticed that the sky was still bright, but the sun was beginning to set. Not long after, they came upon the hill. When they neared the top, Loki set down the basket and Jane moved to sit on the ground, but he held out a hand in front of her. She halted and looked at him strangely, he returning her gaze with an unreadable expression. His eyes flickered from her face to the ground and then he said, "Your dress will be ruined if you sit in the grass. Allow me." He reached behind his shoulders and unclasped his cape, then laying it on the ground in front of her.

Jane stared at it for a moment. Then she nodded at him, muttering, "thank you" and sat down, tucking her legs underneath her.

Loki settled next to her, not brushing against her and opened the basket, going through the contents. He hesitated, frowning. His eyes glanced in her direction as he said, "Note, please, that Fandral arranged the meal and I had nothing to do with it."

She wondered why he said that until he took out a little sandwich in the shape of a heart.

/

* * *

/

_Earlier that evening…_

"Are you sure?" Volstagg asked.

"Trust me," Fandral said. "Hearts are romantic."

/

* * *

/

"For a supposed ladies' man, Fandral is a dork," Jane said, chuckling at the dainty heart sandwiches.

Loki smirked. "Tell him that."

Jane shrugged, looking over the sandwich in her hand. Loki watched her. He didn't care, but the thought momentarily struck him and he wondered what she was thinking about.

 _Don't think about sitting next to a murderer. Don't think about sitting next to a murderer,_ Jane chanted in her head as she focused her attention anywhere, but the man beside her. Or whatever he was turned into. She chanced a glance at him and found him staring at her. He blinked and turned his gaze towards the sky. Jane's eyes lingered on him a beat longer than appropriate, but she was fascinated by his blue skin and the markings embedded in it. What species had Fandral told her? Frost Giant. She caught him glancing at her from the corner of his eyes and she quickly averted hers. She instead looked up and felt her breath catch in her throat. The sun had gone down and in its place were billions of pinpricks of light, bright and vast, closer than any of the ones from home. The stars seemed bigger, brighter, more beautiful than she could have imagined. "This… this is amazing," she breathed, never taking her eyes from the skies.

Loki wasn't looking at the stars. He was looking at her. The smirk was gone, and a small smile was in place as he took in her awed expression, the excitement in her eyes, the look of wonder like a child. "I'll take your word for it."

She threw a bewildered look in his direction, the smile on his face growing. "You don't find this amazing?" She was galled.

"Staring at the same skies for a few hundred years does that to you," he replied coolly.

She blinked. It was disconcerting, remembering that Loki had hundreds of years on her, especially when he said things like that. She shook her head, turning her face skyward. "Yeah, well, I can stare at this for ages." A smile spread across her face as she traced the stars with her eyes, dictating every detail to memory so that she'd never forget.

Loki spared a glance at the sky, noting the same stars, the same patterns he had seen over the countless years. Nothing changed. His head turned back to Jane and he watched as her lips turned up in a smile. In the light of the stars, in this muted light, with her hair draped over her shoulders and her eyes bright, Loki thought she could be considered pretty. For a mortal. "I've been taking it for granted," he said softly. She didn't hear him.

/

* * *

/

Fandral, with a bouquet of flowers clasped in his holders, hopped towards Sif.

Sif, on seeing him, made a face and suggested, "Jane mentioned her distaste for these ones. Roses would be better."

Fandral easily brushed off her comments and told her with a lazy smile, "They're not for Jane."

Sif's porcelain face scrunched up. Of all the ladies who were in the palace, few were turned into any piece of furniture desirable to look upon. Supposing he was out to flirt, she could imagine him stealing flowers from a vase and presenting them to one of the many feather dusters sweeping about or maybe one of the shapelier objects. Though, flirting when in the form of everyday items was highly distasteful in her opinion. Nevertheless, she mentally shrugged and simply nodded to him. "Whichever poor woman ends up in your company, I hope cares not of candle wax."

A cheeky smile spread across his face as he told her matter-of-factly, "She does not." Sif was about to turn from him, but was halted when he held the flowers out to her, causing her eyes to widen in surprise. "You do not mind candle wax, do you?"

Eyes flashing, Sif bit out through gritted teeth, "What joke is this?"

Easily, smoothly, Fandral told her, "I was thinking that maybe we should enact a scenario for Loki and Jane. Test it. See what works, what doesn't. Here is the first step. He enters the room, strolls up to her and presents her flowers." Shrugging, he added, "Let's say, roses, for her sake."

Sif furrowed her brow. This felt wrong somehow. Acting like Loki and Jane, though bothersome in itself since she loathed the snake and Jane she didn't know well enough, was not as unsettling to her as the fact that it was her and Fandral the ones acting. Together. A beat and a sigh later, she relented, reasoning with herself that practicing scenarios could do well in the future. "Alright." Grimacing, she tried, "These are pretty. Thanks." Inwardly wincing, she reprimanded herself for sounding so flat and emotionless. She swept those thoughts away as Fandral apparently moved on to step two. He was leading her out onto the balcony.

As Fandral led Sif, he couldn't wipe away the smile at the thought that he succeeded in luring Sif on a date. Pretend date. He grinned broader. A date is a date, pretend or not.


	12. Eschew

 

Loki couldn't believe it. He would have laughed at the absurdity, if it wasn't a nuisance for him. While Jane was watching the stars, she decided to lie down to see them better. He took his eyes off her for all of two seconds and soon heard the sound of snoring. The mortal fell asleep. He sighed. Sleeping on the ground would not be comfortable. He'd have to carry her in. Why did she have to fall asleep right now? Watching the stars was supposed to make her open up more, but she barely talked and only said a few things, nothing personal. This was another failure. He turned towards her, intending to pick her up when he stopped. Her face, usually scrunched up in anger or in a scowl when scolding him, was lax. Her mouth was slightly parted in a snore. She looked… peaceful. He tilted his head, watching her and decided he could let her rest a few more minutes.

/

* * *

/

Something about this didn't feel right. After Fandral took Sif out to the balcony, he then led her to the banquet hall where they were now sitting atop one of the tables, having a meal. So far the fake date was going well and nothing was odd about it. It wasn't as if she and Fandral were on a real one. The idea made her chuckle. Her and Fandral.

"What is it?" he asked, smiling.

She returned his smile, raising her eyebrows. "Nothing. Just thought of a joke."

"Tell me."

"You and I," she grinned, looking at him, waiting to hear him laugh at it as well. Her smile fell. He wasn't laughing. His face was somber, no hint of the mirth that was there a second ago. "What is the matter?"

His mouth opened and then closed as he shook his head. A smile appeared a moment after and he said, "Nothing."

The off feeling started nagging at her. "You don't agree?"

The smile was there, but it was forced, Sif could tell. "It's not that," he started. "Just what would be so terrible about being with me?"

Sif felt her lip pull upward into a smirk. "Fandral the Dashing? Yes, because everyone wants to be with someone who can't keep a relationship longer than a night." She was chuckling again. "You don't take these things seriously."

"Who's to say I wouldn't?" His face was serious now.

"Fandral, what do you care?" She looked at him in concern.

His face slowly became more cheerful, not as forced this time. "You're right. It's nothing." Then he glanced down before looking back at her and asking, "So, you find me dashing?"

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"I never heard you refer to me as that before."

"That's what everyone calls you," she insisted. "I was using it as an example."

He grinned. "Yes, a fine example. I am dashing, aren't I?"

"It's nice to see your pride wasn't too damaged."

He smiled softly here for no reason Sif could fathom and said, "You damage me every day."

Sif stared blankly at him. Then she eyed his goblet. "How much mead have you had?"

Fandral laughed, eyeing his cup as well. "Too much, it seems." He started shuffling towards her, extending his holder to her. "Thank you for the lovely evening, Milady. Now if I may escort you to your room."

Sif rolled her eyes. "There's no reason to enact this part as well."

"Where is your sense of romance?"

"Out the door," Then she added, "Like the chances of this curse being lifted."

Fandral shook his head, smiling at her. "Stubborn, little teapot."

"Conceited candleholder." She smirked.

"I'll have you know, I'm a candlestick."

"Is there a difference?"

He pursed his lips. "No."

"Just walk me to my room," Sif sighed.

Fandral held out his holder. "After you, Milady."

Sif started down the chair and then onto the floor, Fandral close behind. As they walked down the halls, she wondered why he reacted strangely to her joke. They were friends, so what was it between friends to make jokes like that? Surely, he felt nothing beyond the bond of friendship. Sif found this thought funny as before. Fandral the Dashing could never love one woman, certainly not her. She glanced sideways at him, and caught his gaze. He held it, surprising her. "What is it?" she finally asked after a beat.

"Your eyes," he answered, never taking his gaze from hers. "They're beautiful." He smiled in a friendly way, and then turned his attention ahead of him.

Sif stared at him, struck speechless. She blinked and shook the moment away. Fandral the Dashing would never love one woman, especially not her. She smirked then. "Fandral, please, I've heard all of your lines."

"Have you?"

"Am I not always there with the others when you charm the barmaids?"

"Fair enough, but you have not heard all my lines."

"I've heard a millennium of them."

"Is this a challenge?"

"What?" Sif stopped, prompting Fandral to stop as well, and the two turned towards each other.

"I, Fandral, hereby accept-"

"Wait, wait-"

"-the challenge issued by you, Sif-"

"I did not challenge you-"

"-to tell you lines you never heard me use before," he finished, grinning wickedly at her.

Sif laughed in disbelief. "What?"

Fandral shrugged. "I thought I was straightforward. You said you heard every one of my lines. I accept your challenge. You will hear lines you never knew existed."

"I doubt it." Then with a lopsided smile, she said, "Alright. Tell me."

Fandral shook his head. "Not now, Milady. One does not simply reveal all his tricks in one evening. There is finesse involved."

Sif rolled her eyes, starting to shuffle forward again with Fandral following suit. "You can't wow me."

Fandral smirked. "Challenge accepted."

/

* * *

/

Jane sat at one end of the table as he sat at the other. Tonight she wasn't wearing one of her dresses, but instead was in her Midgardian garb, the flannel shirt and jeans. It was the evening after they watched the skies together, and Loki couldn't shake the image from his mind of her in a state of wonder, staring up at them. So much so that he half envisioned the stars above them, but it must have been his imagination because she didn't notice them. Stars lit her eyes, lighting her features in a dim glow. She was pretty, even in her unflattering garments. For a mortal.

"Thank you," Jane said then, startling him from his thoughts. "For last night," she continued, "The stars are beautiful here."

Loki opened his mouth to respond, but fell silent upon realizing she was closer now. Before she sat at the end of the table, but now she stood next to him. When did she move? He blinked, trying to figure out how he could have been so unfocused, until all thought vanished from his mind and he forgot how to breathe. Jane's face was inches from his own, her brown eyes bright with stars. This close, he noticed flecks of gold, he never saw before. He felt her breath on his lips.

Loki's eyes snapped open, his mouth opening in a silent gasp. His body felt feverishly cold, sweat beginning to perspire on his skin. He should have known. A dream. A very realistic dream. He cut off a laugh though his nose. _Realistic_. As if Jane Foster would ever be so forward. As if she would _want_ to be that forward. Though startling to realize he had a dream about the mortal, he couldn't complain. Ever since she arrived, he stopped having those horrible nightmares from _him_.

Where was he anyway? This didn't feel like his bed. And he didn't remember having something next to him. He was suddenly acutely aware of a body curling into his side. He slowly turned his head, seeing Jane Foster, who was all, but pressing against him, her hand fisted in the fabric of his shirt as her head leaned against his chest. The mortal was a cuddler. Good or bad, Loki wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was closer to her than ever before, but not in the sense of lifting the curse. How'd they end up like this? He remembered watching the stars and then she fell asleep. He was only watching her a moment – how did he allow himself to fall asleep as well? No matter that. How did they wind up so close? Jane must have been cold during the night and instinctively grabbed the nearest warmth, ironically him. If she knew who she was curled up against, she'd have screamed and run in fear. In sleep, she looked so peaceful. So blissfully unaware of the monster she slumbered next to. The monster she clung to for warmth. He decided that as she slept, he would let her lean against him. Her warmth wasn't unpleasant and he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it in the barest sense. It had been a long time since he was in the company of a woman. His eyes roamed her face, noting the curve of her chin and her forehead, and how the latter pressed fully into his chest. She was pretty, he decided, for the third or fourth time. In her own way.

Then, as his senses were coming back to him, he realized his hand was clutching something. He looked down, finding Jane's other hand balled near her stomach, where his hand rested over her knuckles. As he stared at the white against blue, his eyes widened. Loki pulled away from her as quick as he could without waking her and stared from her to his hand in uncontained horror. Then his eyes fell on the pale, white hand his brushed against and one thought kept racing through his mind.

_How am I not hurting you in this form?_

/

* * *

/

Jane's back ached horribly. How did she end up falling asleep on the ground? She stared up at sky. Right. Stargazing. With Loki. She glanced from the corner of her eye to find him sitting farther away than he was last night by several inches, his gaze focused on a rock near his feet. "Loki?" she said, sitting up.

Tossing his head in her direction, he nodded. "Jane."

She frowned. This seemed different somehow. The atmosphere shifted considerably and she didn't know why.

/

* * *

/

Loki strode next to Jane in silence as he escorted her back to the palace. He hadn't spoken much since she awoke. He was quieter, not trying at conversation as often as he used to. He seemed to want to be anywhere, but near her at the moment and though the thought should have alighted her, she couldn't help feeling jaded. After all this time, trying to get her attention, suddenly he doesn't want it anymore? Had he realized how foolish this all was? As the two crossed into the palace, Jane wondered if he wasn't playing hard to get. If all this wasn't a part of his plan.

Something knocked into her side, throwing her against the ground and before she knew it, she was staring up into wide, red eyes. Too stunned to speak, it took her several, long moments to realize Loki slipped and fell on top of her and now here they were, lying awkwardly on the ground. He muttered apologizes as he hastened to lift himself up.

"I see the date went well," Fandral's voice boomed across the room, half-halting Loki's movements. The candlestick raised an eyebrow as he drew closer. "A little too well?"

Loki all, but leapt to his feet as he bit out, "That was not what it looked like."

Fandral only wolfishly grinned. "I know what I saw and eyes do not lie."

Loki gave him a stern glare, taking his eyes from Jane for a second and she took the moment to slip away in the direction of her room.

Jane paused in the hallway, hesitantly. She turned back. Loki was watching her.

She stood there awkwardly for a beat or two, clutching her fists and looking around, deciding whether or not to speak. Finally, she looked up and caught his eyes as she said, "Thank you." She pivoted and hurried down the hall without looking back.

/

* * *

/

Loki stared into the hall long after she turned the corner to her chamber.

Fandral hopped next to him. "Well, well, well! Look at you! You must have really wowed her to have her speaking to you and to thank you." His grin widened. "And she couldn't keep her hands off you."

"I slipped," he corrected, curtly. Before the candlestick could reply, he swiftly stepped from the room and went straight to his. "Fandral, come here," he called over his shoulder.

Fandral followed Loki, curious to the prince's sudden haste. Perhaps there was something worth telling him about the date. With new hope, he hopped faster after him until they reached the prince's room, where inside Loki immediately shut the door behind him and all, but fell down into a nearby chair, pushed against his shelf of books. Fandral looked at him in concern, but didn't dare speak a word. He waited to hear what the prince had to say. He prayed to the Norns the date went well and he had only good tidings.

Loki mumbled something.

"What was that?" Fandral asked, leaning towards him.

"I touched her hand…" Loki muttered, barely audible.

He wasn't looking at Fandral. His stare was distant, not there, and he leaned into his hand, draping his finger across his lip. Even in his frost giant visage, red eyes, blue skin, deep markings, he had all the mannerisms of the Loki Fandral knew and though disconcerting to see him this way, it didn't feel unnatural or wrong to the candlestick. To him, he was standing in the second prince's room, conversing with an old friend. Who was apparently a prude. "Well, you certainly had an eventful evening."

Loki snapped his gaze on the candlestick, his eyes hardening. He dropped his hand, gripping the armrest, claws digging into the upholstery. "You don't understand," he bit out, through gritted, black fangs. Fandral would admit those were unnatural. "I shouldn't be able to touch her."

It took all of two seconds for Fandral to understand and when he did, his eyes widened in shock. "By Odin's beard," he gasped. "What does this mean?"

"How am I to know?" Loki barked. His neutral expression fell, becoming ever more distraught, his eyes glazing and his mouth parted in wordless expression. "I- I've never been in… in this form before." His voice got quiet and he swallowed, his gaze dropping to his feet.

Loki stood from his chair, beginning to pace, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Fandral recognized this as a form of his restlessness, a habit from youth. At least a few things never changed, he mused, watching the prince. "You have picked me up before," he reminded him. "Could it be the curse, affecting you and those around?"

Without pausing in his pace, Loki shook his head. "No, that doesn't count. You are an object – my frost touch rightly shouldn't affect you." He halted; his back to Fandral. "Unless… it does," he said slowly.

Fandral couldn't see his expression, but by how his voice became quiet, he wondered if Loki wasn't paling at the moment. Another habit remembered from youth. It seemed Fandral was doing a lot of remembering lately.

"Norns," Loki cursed under his breath, though Fandral still heard. "I know nothing about..." He suddenly turned on his heel, facing the candlestick, looking at him determinedly. "That doesn't explain why when I touched Jane, nothing happened. What is the meaning of this?"

Fandral smirked, eyeing the prince. "Perhaps the maiden is special."

Loki didn't respond. He only stared, his red eyes becoming duller, more distant. He looked lost. Like a child.

Fandral frowned. There was something really wrong with him.

Loki startled as if realizing Fandral was there for the first time. Then his eyes focused, becoming sharper, more intense as he glared at the candlestick. He took a step towards him, growling, "What sympathy of yours, a washed-up, overused man of the night, is good to me? I need not your pity, you sniveling, rusted piece of lighting. Leave my chambers at once." The last was a demand.

Fandral hurried to the door, but, finding it shut, had to wait in a moment's awkward silence for Loki to open it and then he hurried out, hearing Loki slam it shut. He stood alone in the hallway, thinking over the conversation he had with the second prince. He held up his holders, examining the candles where hands used to be. Distinctly, almost defiantly, an image of a young boy with black hair, holding his hand out to him as he leaned against a lower edge of a cliff came to mind. He couldn't remember who pulled who up, or if they both ended up tumbling down, but what he did remember was that they were friends no matter the outcome, no matter the hardship. He racked his brain, trying to pull forth more recent memories of the black haired boy to no avail. Somewhere along the way, they drifted, stepping onto separate paths. When did that happen?

Glancing at the door, tracing the etchings along the side, the candlestick was determined to amend a lost friendship.


	13. Facets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The world is broken  
> And halos fail to glisten  
> You try to make a difference  
> But no one wants to listen
> 
> (Neutron Star Collison by Muse)

 

Jane picked at the waffles on her plate, not paying attention as she popped them into her mouth. The table was set with extravagant fineries, dishes and a vase or two as it always was for breakfast. She never attended before, but Fandral talked her into it. Now she sat at her usual seat at one end of the table, staring down at the chair at the other.

Stars were the only thing on her mind. Falling asleep was a mistake. There wasn't nearly enough time for her to appreciate them as much as she wanted. Agreeing to attend breakfast, she had hoped she'd get a chance to ask Loki more about them. That wasn't to say she wished for his company. She merely wanted to hear his account. Thor did say his brother was smart. There was nothing wrong with wanting to see for herself. She didn't want his company. She ignored the pang of disappointment she felt as she stared at the empty chair.

/

* * *

/

As a child, Loki was frightened of many things. Nothing he would admit now, but they were usual childish fears. The dark, thunder, the monster in his wardrobe. His blanket was his sanctuary. None of his fears could reach him. In its warmth, he knew he was safe and all the evils were vanquished. If the blanket wasn't enough, he always had someone he could turn to, someone he could rely on. He wasn't a child anymore. The dark became his friend. Thunder an annoyance. The monster in his wardrobe never existed. The monster was under his skin. The blanket couldn't protect him from what was inside. And as for the someone he used to rely on… that didn't matter anymore.

Now, like a petulant child, he hid under his covers, locked his doors, blocked everything out. He needed to block it out. He needed to forget. He couldn't. It was inside him. Something he couldn't escape no matter the measures he took, no matter the distance he traveled. Nothing could ever separate him from what he was. Monster. Frost giant. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, holding the blanket over his head, desperately wanting to forget everything, but its warmth. Nothing worked. Motionless, he hadn't moved since Fandral left, nor had he any intentions of getting up. The whirlwind in his head was all his energy could focus on and all else became trifling.

What a fool he had been, pursuing the mortal Jane Foster. Rightly, his touch should have seared her flesh. Should've burned her from the cold. What an idiot. He could've badly injured her and then what? Her accusations would prove true. He was a monster. He destroyed everything he touched. Loki laughed bitterly. There was no need for proof. His existence was enough. The mortal was right, but she knew not how true her words were. If she only knew this was his true skin and not the results of a 'curse', what would she have to say then? He frowned. She already said it.

From what he knew, frost giants couldn't touch other creatures without inflicting their frost touch. How did he not harm her? Loki's brow furrowed, and he licked his lips, the dryness of them unbearable.

Light started to dapple on his blanket, pressing against his shut eyes and he loathed it. He needed absolute darkness. Throwing his arm over his eyes, he blocked out the light, willing it away. If only blocking out himself was so simple.

/

* * *

/

The halls, as the rest of the palace, were gilded in gold. Each tile, each column, glistening in all its splendor. Jane couldn't help feeling a little alighted being in a place so beautiful. Once finished with breakfast, she had decided to explore the unlocked rooms. Fandral and Sif had offered to show her around, but she declined, thinking it'd be more fun to see what she'd find on her own. She also didn't need to hear the candlestick yammering on about how she should give Loki a chance. The little piece of lighting was, though subtle, relentless.

As she walked through the halls, peering casually into door after door, she came across a wide open space, a very large room with ceilings higher than she had seen and in the far corner, she noticed ginormous grandfather clocks that were as tall as the ceiling and nearly half the width of the room. One stood in the left back corner and the other in the right, both facing towards the hallway she stepped from. She stared at them, incredulous. As she neared, studying the well-polished faces high above her, she realized there were indeed human faces upon them. The one on the left was an old man's face, who was missing an eye while the one on the right was an older woman with kind eyes. They were familiar somehow.

"Hello?" Jane called up to them as she approached. This was the first time she met any other live objects aside from Fandral, Sif, the spice shakers and an occasional feather duster.

The clocks moved their eyes on her. The man spoke first. "Child, I see you have found your way to our room."

His voice was loud, booming, making her wince and hold her hands over her ears. "Uh! Uh, um, yes, I have. And who are you?" She stared up in wonder at their unusual size. "And how are you so big?"

The woman clock answered. "We are, what you would call, the king and queen of Asgard."

Jane's eyebrows shot up and she dropped her hands to her sides. "You're Thor's parents."

The woman clock smiled. "Yes. He talked much about you."

"He did?"

"Yes, and you are even smaller than he described," the man deadpanned.

The woman hushed him. "Don't listen to him. I am Frigga. And this grump is Odin."

Odin rolled his eye. "It is situations as these that make me this way."

To Jane, Frigga said, "He has always been a clock."

Jane looked at them in bewilderment.

"Do not tell her lies," Odin demanded. "She came here for a purpose. Or so she should have." Looking at Jane, he continued, "What is it, Child? What do you need?"

Jane shuffled her feet, unsure. "I was going through the rooms and ended up here."

Odin sighed. "What did I tell you, Frigga? Mortals are daft things."

"Excuse you?" Jane glared at him.

"Odin," Frigga hissed under her breath. "You're not giving her a chance." She looked back at Jane. "There is not much we can do. We are trapped in this room, unable to move. Perhaps we can help you in another way, nonetheless."

"I could use advice," she told them honestly. "I don't know how to handle your son. He's been… strange, to say the least. He's… he's…" Jane sighed, running her hand through her hair, looking down. "He's not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" Frigga asked.

Jane shrugged, looking up at them. "I don't know. A tyrant. A child throwing a tantrum." She winced, seeing Frigga's confused face. "No offense. I just expected the villain who was in New York."

Frigga considered her, her eyes calculating. "And how has my son acted?"

Jane hesitated. "For lack of a better term, tolerable. Strangely enough." Frigga raised her metallic, number one and number two eyebrows at this. Jane hurried to explain. "He has done nothing, but compliment me and be nice to me since I got here. But, I know it's all part of some trick. He makes me dine with him no matter where I go. He even sat on flour sacks in the kitchen with me."

Amusement lit both clocks eyes. "There's something you don't see," Odin muttered.

"It sounds to me he is trying his best," Frigga said.

"For what though?" Jane asked. "Why is he trying anything? He must be trying to spite Thor, right?"

"Perhaps," Frigga conceded. "Or he desires the company."

Jane sighed. "I'm sorry, but that's what everyone keeps saying."

"Then could it be the truth?"

Jane frowned. "Why would he want my company?"

"My son is a lonely soul. Not many take kindly to him. Surely, that much is obvious."

"Not many take kindly to someone who tried to take over their world," Jane said gravely.

"The child has a point," Odin murmured.

Frigga ignored him. "If he is trying so hard to win your favor, should you not give him at least a chance?"

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"All of this is a lie. His kindness, if it can be called that-"

"Would you call it anything else?"

"Manipulation," Jane seethed. "He's manipulating me. Somehow. For something. I don't know."

"What else has my son done?"

Jane crossed her arms, glancing down. "Well, he… he stole my stars," she said, indignantly.

Frigga looked on in confusion. "He stole your stars?"

"Yes," Jane paused, realizing how foolish that must sound. "Well, not exactly. He- he cast an illusion or something of the stars back on Midgard and made them hang over the dining table."

"That sounds thoughtful," Frigga mused.

"It was not," Jane insisted. "He had no right to use the stars I love in way of his manipulation of me."

"Why did he create the stars?" Frigga asked.

"To use me."

"How do you know?"

"Because- because," Jane stuttered and then stopped, her eyes widening. She didn't know. Not for sure. All of this was based on her assumptions. She didn't really know Loki's plan for any of this. "Alright, I don't know," she admitted. "But, why else would he do that?"

"Perhaps he wanted to make you feel more at home," Frigga suggested. "Not all of his motives have to be cruel."

"If he wanted to make me feel at home, he'd let me go," Jane pointed out.

"Did you not make a deal?"

Jane frowned. "I didn't-"

"Thor was here, but now he is gone."

Jane felt her mouth go dry. "Well, I, I mean, yes, sort of. I guess I might've…" She sighed. "I made a deal, you are right, for Thor to go home and for me to stay."

"Yes, and Loki doesn't have to treat you this way. By all means, you are his prisoner, as we all are. Yet, he treats you kindly. What is it to ask of you to do the same?"

Jane's stomach knotted painfully. She clenched her jaw and told herself that was not guilt. "It is not so simple," she said weakly.

"No one is telling you to love him."

"He is," Jane argued. "He told me I had to try to love him. What is that about?"

"Is he not alone in this palace? Has he anyone to call his own?"

Jane shook her head. "I am not anything to him, nor will I ever be. He can find someone else."

"What help are you to Thor, if you keep acting petulantly," Odin cut in. "You traded places with him, sending him to Midgard for help and yet while here, you make no progress. You help not with your actions, but rather tear things asunder with how you create these false slights against yourself. Go on ahead, becoming bitter towards my son. When everything falls apart, what can you say you did to keep it from becoming so?"

Jane fell silent, feeling her cheeks become red. "It is not up to me to-" she began, but was cut off again.

"No, of course, you can't be held accountable for your actions. What is it to you if things get out of hand?"

"Odin," Frigga warned.

"Let me finish," he said. "Mortals are all the same. They know not the damage their actions have on future consequences because they are not around to witness them. I assure you, Child, you will be around for these and you will be repaid in full by your actions. Let your enmity be between you and Loki, but what of Thor? Surely enough you care for him to try."

Jane stared, struck silent. He was right. Why did he have to be right? Acting this way wasn't helping Thor at all, who was probably in the middle of trying to rescue her while she was arguing with his brother, causing more trouble than necessary. She sighed. "I will try," she said evenly. "But, nothing will come of this."

The clocks watched the mortal as she sauntered from their presence. Once she was gone, Odin said, "We should've told her about the requirements regarding the curse. Why tell her lies? The child is in danger."

Frigga stared warily into the hallway. "No. She has nothing to fear. It is Loki I fear for. Once he lifts the veil of manipulation, then all will be well. Until then, I worry for our wayward son. His greatest lie is to himself."

/

* * *

/

Jane almost immediately ran into the teapot and candleholder as she exited the room and rounded the corner. The two looked relieved to see her.

"Lady Jane," Fandral started. "We hadn't known where you went off to."

"I was only exploring the palace. You knew that."

"Yes, of course." He nodded. "We haven't seen Loki all day and we were wondering if you knew anything about his absence."

Jane frowned. "Why would I know?"

Fandral answered, "You are closer to him than the other palace residents." Sif gave him a withering look.

Jane was about to dismiss the statement, until she remembered what Frigga and Odin had told her. He was trying. What help was she? "Alright, I'll talk to him."

"Now Lady Jane, there is no need to deny- _what_?" Fandral looked at her, startled.

"I'll talk to him," she repeated. "Where is his room?"

/

* * *

/

As soon as Jane left, Sif turned to Fandral and said, "This isn't going to work."

Fandral smirked. "Of course, it will. It's brilliant. She'll talk with Loki, coax him out of his room and by midnight, they'll be madly in love."

"I think you skipped several key parts."

"Nonsense. This is perfect. Nothing can go wrong."

/

* * *

/

 _Why did everything have to go wrong?_ Jane wondered as she walked through the hallways. Her life used to be normal. It used to make sense. And then Thor fell out of the sky and everything imploded from then on. Now here she was, wandering the palace of an alien whatever, going to find the maniac who failed to take over her world, and talk to him to find out what was making him a recluse. None of that sounded right even in her head.

She stopped in front of the door Fandral had described. Giant, green like hers, but darker and with golden handles. She was not concerned about him. She wasn't. She just didn't want the whack-a-doo to end up starved in his room. Even whack-a-doos didn't deserve to starve. She took a deep breath and knocked.

/

* * *

/

Loki growled in irritation at the noise. Someone was knocking at his door. Again. Fandral had been trying to get him out of his room since breakfast, but he didn't want anything to do with anyone. He ignored it, pulling the blanket tighter around himself. If he waited, Fandral would give up and leave.

"Loki?" called a voice that was decidedly not Fandral's, making Loki bolt upright in bed.

What did she want? Most likely to tell him how much of a monster he was. Another knock came. He sighed. He might as well get this over with. That stubborn woman wouldn't give up like the candlestick. Throwing his legs over his bed and tossing the blanket away, Loki made his way to the door, but stopped, remembering he had stripped off all his clothing before lying down and quickly pulled on something simple before answering the door.

/

* * *

/

Where was he? Jane was about to knock a third time, when the door swung open. She stared for a moment in surprise. All Loki wore was a plain, long sleeved green shirt and black pants. His hair was unkempt, shooting out in different directions. She wondered if he hadn't left his bed all day.

"What?" he asked, voice husky. He cleared his throat and tried again. "What is it?"

Jane searched his face, surprised how ragged he looked. His eyes weren't looking at her, though they trained on her face. He seemed to be elsewhere. And his face, though blue, seemed pale. A paler blue. He looked sick. Didn't she just see him this morning?

"I'm making sure you're not dead," she joked, though seeing him now made her question if he was ill or not. "Fandral and Sif said you haven't been out of your room all day."

His brow furrowed, staring at her in open confusion. Then he said darkly, "It'd take a lot to kill me." In a lower tone, he murmured, "I know. Others have tried."

 _Not many take kindly to him._ No kidding. Jane frowned, darting a glance to the side before changing the subject. "Will you be joining me for dinner?"

/

* * *

/

Loki didn't hear her right. The words sounded like she was asking him to come to dinner with her, but that couldn't be right. Why would she ask a monster like him? "What?" he asked.

Jane grimaced, wringing her hands. "Uh, are you going to dinner? You know, so you don't starve?"

Of what concern was he to her? He smirked bitterly. "You have nothing to worry about. It'd take more than skipping a single meal to starve me. My body can last longer than your mortal one."

Her brow furrowed and she clasped her hands across her stomach. "Yeah, well, it still can't be good for you. I would…" She paused, looking down before locking eyes with him. "I would feel better if I knew you ate something." She took a slight breath. "So, are you going to come to dinner?" Then softly, she added, "With me?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. Why the sudden change? Did she truly care what became of him? How could she? Perhaps she felt she needed to repay him for the stars he'd shown her and this was her way of payment. Mild concern. What could sitting with her for a meal hurt? It wasn't as if anything would come of this. "I'll be there," he said.

A small smile lifted her lips for a second and she nodded. "Good." Then awkwardly, she said, "I guess I'll be going now." She smiled a quick, awkward grin before starting down the hall towards her chambers. As he was about to close the door, she turned around and called, "See you then." After, she rounded a corner and she was out of sight.

Loki stared at the corner. "See you then," he muttered before retreating back into his room.


	14. Rendering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's just a day  
> I'm feeling so collect  
> A happy day  
> Should never have to hurt so bad  
> Cause I don't blame you  
> No I don't blame you
> 
> (I Don't Blame You by Phantogram)

 

Blue light cast itself ominously across the room as holographic screens drifted in front of the tired scientist. It was another late night of experimenting and nothing could pry that eccentric billionaire away from the screens. Bruce glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Unshaved. Hair a mess. Bags accumulated so heavily under his eyes, the billionaire might as well have packed for a round trip around the world. Bruce smirked bitterly. It was true what they said. No wrath like a mother losing her child.

"Tony," he spoke up, catching the man's attention. Tony turned his head, the blue light contrasting the red rims around his eyes eerily. The scientist had to pick his words carefully. From experience, he knew he couldn't be blunt, lest he caused the billionaire to fly into another working rage. "The readings haven't changed in the past few hours. Stepping back and looking at them with fresh eyes would be better."

Tony, to Bruce's disappointment, shook his head, already turning back to the screens, running his hands over them as he began a new test. "No, no. I'm close. I almost got it. You rest. I'm fine." He started muttering incoherently, numbers, facts, something about penguins.

Bruce sighed. "Look, I'm going to hit up the kitchen and bring you back something. What do you want?"

"Nothing. Uh, blueberries. Whatever. Just let me work."

"Tony," his voice was firm. "You need to take a break."

The billionaire sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. "I can't. I have to keep working."

"Hey," Bruce walked over to him, looking over the pallor of his skin. "You're no use to her if you run yourself into the ground like this."

Tony stared blankly at the screen in front of him, the light darkening his face in hues of blues and purples. "I could've stopped her," he muttered. He closed his eyes in a long blink and breathed heavily through his nose before turning to the man next to him.

Bruce nodded, giving a half-hearted smile. "Everyone knows you would have torn the sky apart to keep her away from him. But, you didn't know. None of us did."

Tony shrugged, looking around. "I'm going to tear the sky open, one way or another, and when I do, Reindeer Games isn't going to know what hit him."

"Yeah, but until then, you really need a break. I can see numbers start to perspire from your skin. It's freaking me out."

Tony smirked in spite of himself. "This isn't the worst state I've been in."

"I believe it." There was a pause of comfortable silence. "I think that intern made waffles."

Tony frowned. "It's two in the morning."

"Yeah, the morning."

"I can't argue with that."

/

* * *

/

"You do not think it is too late to be making waffles?" Thor asked, staring at Darcy as she kept popping the little discs into the toaster. "Don't you sleep?"

"Who sleeps?" she retorted. She got out two plates and divided the waffles between them before handing one to Thor. "You said so yourself that you were hungry. So, eat."

The two plopped down on the couch, Darcy tucking her legs beneath her and Thor sat next to her.

"Blueberry waffles smell just like love," Darcy sighed as she stuffed her mouth. She chewed, smiling at Thor.

Thor looked from her to his plate in confusion. "How does one know what love smells like?"

"No one knows what love really smells like." She scooped up another forkful and popped it in her mouth. "But, this is close."

"That doesn't seem…" Thor trailed off as he looked up.

"Doesn't seem what?"

Blue. He could only see blue and suddenly he wondered why he never noticed how blue Darcy's eyes were before.

"Hello? Earth to Thor?"

He blinked, snapping out of his daze. "I'm sorry, Lady Darcy."

"Yeah, whatever. Just making sure you're still there." She finished off her waffles and asked, "What were you saying?"

"Nothing. You are right. Waffles smell like love."

" _Blueberry_ waffles," Darcy emphasized.

Thor wasn't paying much attention and only nodded. He was missing Jane more than he realized if he was having moments like these towards his friend.

" _How did you eat all the waffles_?" An anguished voice cried from the kitchen.

Thor looked up to see Bruce and Tony. Bruce looked on disapprovingly as Tony held up an empty box of waffles.

Darcy shrugged. "Thor likes his waffles. What can I say?"

"And I suppose you just like holding a plate full of syrup." Tony eyed her skeptically.

"It comforts me," she replied.

"Better not let Clint know you ate all the waffles. That man takes his breakfast seriously," Bruce noted.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "I'll buy him more. He doesn't have to get his panties in a knot."

Tony looked ready to say something, but stopped and took out his phone instead, looking over the screen. His face scrunched up and then became serious before he hurried out of the kitchen. Bruce cast a glance in his direction, but didn't move to go after him.

"So," Darcy hummed as she got up to place her plate in the sink. She turned to the scientist. "Any progress?"

Bruce shook his head. "Unless explosions count."

"Decidedly not," she sighed. Leaning against the sink, she crossed her arms and cast her gaze towards the floor. A moment passed and then she looked up, brightening and asked, "Anyone up for cards?"

"At two in the morning?" Bruce asked.

"Cards are a nice distraction."

"I'll have to pass," Bruce told her with a smile. "I could really use some sleep after having to work so late the past few nights."

"Bruce."

"Of course, I don't actually need sleep," Bruce muttered at the sound of the familiar voice.

Everyone looked up to see Tony, looking more disheveled than earlier, standing in the doorway. "A portal was opened."

/

* * *

/

There were a few more hours until dinner and Jane lay on her bed, suddenly feeling drained. Her body was tired, but her brain buzzed on relentless. Loki's face remained sharp in her mind. The haunted gaze in his eyes creeped across her vision. She didn't know what to think of it. Now that she thought of it, he had been more distant after stargazing. This didn't bother her particularly; in fact, it was nice to have his fake compliments stop. However, a voice kept nagging her, and the scientist in her wanted to know a reason, a way of explanation to explain his odd behavior. What had happened? Jane frowned, recalling the events. They sat on the hill. She ate some of the sandwiches - an interesting experience by itself. Then she fell asleep. It was unsettling to think she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep next to him. No, it wasn't him. She was not comfortable with him. It was the stars. The stars were so soothing; she was lulled asleep by their presence. Loki had nothing to do with it.

Jane sighed, rolling onto her side, pulling the blanket up to her chin, wanting nothing more than to melt away from reality. When did Loki become the focus of her contemplations? When he told her to stay in the palace. When he treated her less like a prisoner and more like a guest. When he pursued her attention. He wasn't going to get it. The meals were okay. She was still sore about the stars in the dining room. Those were hers and not his. But didn't he share his stars with her? A vision of a cluster of bright, beautiful stars flooded her eyes and all she could see were Asgard's skies. She frowned. That wasn't the same. He stole the vision of stars from Earth. She wasn't the one to show him. Not that she would show him. He had seen her stars when he was on Earth, parading and tromping through New York. Jane clutched her fists, remembering the wound he pried open for all earths' inhabitants. There was no sympathy for reckless murderers. Loki smiling flitted in the back of her mind, but she cast it out immediately. The smile was nothing but a trick of the light. The starlight he showed her.

Growling in frustration, Jane threw her blanket off and sat up. Why was the room so hot? She stood and began pacing, but found she was not much of a pacer and decided to walk out onto the balcony. From this vantage point, she could see one side of the palace, and the many buildings spread throughout the land. Beyond the rolling grass hills, she could see a waterfall vanish over the edge and near that sat the Bi-Frost. Jane bit the inside of her cheek. If she could manage navigating the palace, she'd find her way out so that she could reach the only means of escape from this realm. Loki warned her of something; was it falling? She eyed the thin strip of colors, remembering her trek from when she arrived. The bridge was steady enough. What need did she to worry? Now if only she could find her way out. She tried to pay attention when Loki led her to the exit, but he took so many twists and turns that by the time they arrived at the entrance, she couldn't recall the ninth or tenth turn they took and after that it all blended. She turned from the view and sat back on her bed, returning to her earlier pondering. Loki. Everything seemed to circle back to him, someway, somehow.

As she thought about Loki and that strange expression on his face, she started wondering about the rules. Another routine subject that popped up in her mind constantly. Never leave. Dine with him. And the last one. Why the last one? The others she could salvage some sense - Fandral did make a point of desiring company. The last one didn't hold any merit, other than to push her farther away. Asking for love was so absurd; it had to be a trick.

Another curious part in the whole mess. Fandral. From the moment he brought her here, he acted strange, too. Dropping subtle compliments towards Loki, sometimes not as subtly. And why did Loki react so violently when she found that rose? The person who caused this whole mess gave it to him, and it signified when the curse could no longer be lifted, but there had to be more than that. Loki had to know how to lift the curse. Why would the person just leave them like this with nothing to go by? Maybe Loki did know, but he couldn't do it on his own. She vaguely wondered if it had anything to do with her. If the reason why he kept her in the palace might have something to do with the curse. That would explain his odd behavior towards her and why he hadn't harmed her. But, how did it all go together?

Fandral. Compliments. Rose. Fandral. Compliments. Rose. Fandral. Compliments. Rose. Jane's eyes widened and she straightened up. The words Loki spoke ran through her head like a spike.

_"_ _You must try to love me."_


	15. Opening Wounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got no feel, I got no rhythm  
> I just keep losing my beat (you just keep losing and losing)  
> I'm OK, I'm alright (he's alright, he's alright)  
> I ain't gonna face no defeat (yeah yeah)  
> I just gotta get out of this prison cell  
> One day (someday) I'm gonna be free, Lord!
> 
> (Somebody to Love by Queen)

 

Jane sat at the dining table, several minutes early, with her gaze on her lap and her mind in a flurry of motion. One thought would quickly be replaced by another, only to be replaced again in half the time. Not a whole, single thought formed, but a network, a cobweb of thoughts clustered in her mind and no matter how hard she tried, she could not separate one from the other. Every word, every conversation, every action between her and Loki played in her mind on fast-forward and it all blended in a sea of noise and color. Picking apart piece by piece, she was suddenly unsure what any of it meant. Only a few hours ago she did know. Manipulation. To spite Thor. Now, she had no idea. She needed to hear his answer. He needed to tell her once and for all and then she could quiet these thoughts. These frivolous, useless thoughts. He needed to tell her those words and then everything would make sense again. She needed everything to make sense again.

"What?" She only now noticed the candlestick by her side. "What, Fandral?" she asked again, turning her head towards him, realizing she missed something he said. He stood by her chair, staring up at her.

"Lady Jane, I was asking if you'd like anything special for this evening's dinner."

She shook her head, already returning her gaze back to her lap, starting to let her mind set in motion again. "No, thank you."

"Lady Jane, is something the matter?"

 _You should know_ , she thought, casting a glance in his direction. "Do you know anything about lifting the curse?"

"No, Milady, I'm afraid not. If I did, I would do everything in my power to turn back. It is ungentlemanly of me to keep the ladies waiting."

Jane nodded once without looking up. Wouldn't she do everything she could to become normal again if she knew how to? "I have another question, Fandral," she said, looking at him.

"Anything, Milady."

"Were you there when the curse was placed?"

He looked at her strangely. "Yes, I was," he told her evenly.

"Was there a reason Loki was turned into something different from everyone else?"

His tension seemed to melt away upon hearing this and he shook his head. "As I've said before, I have no idea." He smiled at her apologetically.

"Thanks, then," she said quietly before gazing over the table. The linens were placed; the silverware was set; nothing was missing, save for the one who sat at the other end. She was not looking forward to this dinner.

/

* * *

/

Loki didn't know how to feel about the impending dinner. It was different from the other ones. Jane was the one to invite _him_ – out of pity or some sort of twisted gratitude - instead of the other way around. She came to _his_ door. Had she wondered about him? If so, why? That was what he couldn't wrap his head around. The sudden concern she showed towards him, although for only a moment, was baffling. Attending the aforementioned dinner was an anxious wait by itself. He glanced out the window, eyeing the ever dipping sun. If it was anything to go by, the dinner in question was mere minutes away.

He drew in a slow breath, sitting quietly on his bed, casting his gaze across his feet, fortunately clad in his boots and pants, where no blue dare peek through. His hands he carefully placed on either side behind him, leaning slightly back. They were the cause of his torrent of thoughts. Since that cursed day when he returned h- _to Asgard_ – and he was forced to wear his wretched skin, he hadn't felt differently - he didn't feel as if inside another body. His body was his own and unless he caught his reflection, he didn't acknowledge the change. He was trapped in Asgard as a false king over furniture and kitchen appliances, and if that wasn't some sort of twisted joke by itself, the requirement to lift this veil of a nightmare was unsettling to say the least. Catching sight of blue against white jolted him into his reality. He was a Frost Giant – truly, completely with no walls of falsity for protection. Seeing for himself the startling difference between his disgusting blue skin and her fair white skin set in his mind the truth. Though, he tried with every scrap of his might left to pretend it away, he couldn't. How could he pretend away millennia of lies?

Slowly, Loki brought one hand in front of him and forced himself to examine it. It was his hand. There was no mistake about that. Now it was blue and had markings, but this was his hand. The one that touched Jane Foster's hand. And didn't leave a scar. He dropped it from his sight, clutching it tightly at his side and gazed unseeingly at his boots again. The sun, he noticed from the corner of his eye, dipped lower. A minute or two until the dinner. Where Jane was.

/

* * *

/

Jane propped her chin on her hand. Then she folded her hands in her lap before throwing them to the side to give them a slight shake and then she found them tapping a fork relentlessly against the table. Where was he?

"Something the matter, Lady Jane?" Fandral asked for the second time that evening, watching her.

"Nothing, uh. I'm going to go check on Loki," she said, pushing her chair back and standing before she finished the sentence.

She couldn't wait any longer. She had to talk to him and confirm or deny her suspicions. She couldn't be right, could she? That was foolish. There was no way… she stopped mid-stride as she rounded the hallway corner and caught sight of the Asgardian in question opening the door to his room and stepping out. "Loki," she called, approaching him.

/

* * *

/

Loki couldn't attend the dinner. Not at that moment. He stood from his bed, already clear on his destination. The weapons vault, where he placed the Ice Casket. There had to be answers. As he opened the door, the exact voice he hadn't wanted to hear said his name and he reluctantly turned his head towards Jane as she neared him. "Yes?" he asked. "If this is about dinner, I am sorry, but I have to decline. More pressing matters have come up."

Confusion passed her features before she shook her head. "That's okay. This will only take a minute. I have to ask you something."

He looked at her curiously. "What is it?"

She hesitated, glancing at the floor. Then, looking back at him, she asked, "Why did you ask me to love you?"

He stared. She had asked before, but never so directly and he hadn't given her an answer then, nor did he want to give her one now. Tired, focused more on getting to the weapons vault, he sighed and said, "Jane, if that is all you came here for, I really don't have time-"

"Is it about the curse?" she asked suddenly, looking at him expectantly. "Does love break it?" The last words were spoken in a whisper.

A beat of silence fell over them, where neither moved for half a second. Then Jane gave a nervous, breathy laugh and awkwardly smiled, saying, "Silly, right? Why would that-"

"Yes."

She didn't catch his soft whisper and asked, "What?"

"Yes," he said more strongly, looking her straight in the eyes. "Love breaks the curse."

Those were not the words she needed to hear. She did hear him, but she didn't believe him. "What?" she croaked, her voice suddenly hoarse.

"Are you deaf?" he asked more viciously than he intended, unable to better conceal his anger in the moment. "The curse can only be lifted if I can find somebody to love me." She opened her mouth, but he cut her off, continuing, "I already know you cannot love me, Jane Foster. I am not your precious Thor and this was a mistake."

Jane stood, breathless; her dreadful suspicions confirmed. Her life was a Disney movie. The question was who was the sick mastermind behind this fairytale disaster? She shook the thought from her head. She should've known that it would turn out this way. The similarities were too striking for it all to be mere coincidence. And she was right; Loki knew all along. Having found her breath, she said the first thing to come to mind, "T-Thor has nothing to do with this." She closed her eyes briefly. "With me not being able to love you. I don't even know if I love him." She sighed, frowning. "That's none of your business, anyway. Look, it's good you want to lift the curse, but you can't force someone to love you."

Loki found her comment on Thor interesting, but filed it away for later. Her last words struck him odd. "I'm not forcing you to do anything," he said indignantly. "Is that what you think I'm doing?"

She was surprised by the offense in his voice. "No, but I can't love you, Loki."

"Why not?"

"Let's start with the first thing. You tried to take over my world."

"Your people would've been better off with me as their ruler," he hissed, agitation rising inside of him.

Her eyes narrowed. "How can anyone be so egotistical? How can you think you have the right to rule anyone?"

"I am above all of you," he told her more out of spite than believing truth in the words. He just wanted her to stop talking about _that_ incident. His failure.

/

* * *

/

Fandral and Sif started down the hall towards Loki's room after a good several minutes passed with no hint of Jane's return.

"What could be taking them?" Sif asked.

Fandral grinned. "Perhaps they realized their love for one another and are otherwise occupied."

Sif rolled her eyes. "It will be a miracle those two don't kill each other by the time this is over."

"Nonsense, they're most likely confessing their love as we speak."

As they turned the corner, they saw said 'couple' now in the middle of some sort of heated argument.

"You murdered people. How is killing innocents above anyone?" Jane was telling Loki, anger evident on both of their faces.

"Speaking of murder," Sif mumbled.

Fandral didn't respond and only watched as the words continued to fly.

"The people I killed were hardly innocent. It was necessary. They were in my way, opposed to my glorious rule," Loki said, his voice rising in anger.

"Of course, they were, Loki. You were trying to take over the world. No one is okay with that."

"How else would they see that I was right? That I could have given them what they needed?" He frowned, annoyed and irritated by her lack of ability to see the truth in his words. He wanted this conversation to end. There was no need to justify his actions to this petty mortal. Even if it was Jane. "That's irrelevant. What does that have to do with your inability to love me?"

A flicker crossed Jane's mind of a conversation she once had with Thor about Loki. Thor had told her then that his brother used to be different. Then she remembered how Loki showed her Asgard's stars and the look on his face when she went to invite him to dinner. She frowned, sighing, pushing the memories away and focused on the present conversation. "Maybe you were a decent person once and maybe you can be again," she relented. Then with a strong resolve, she said, "But I can't forgive you for your actions. What you did to New York was despicable."

"In what way did that action affect you?" he demanded, tired of her continually throwing that day in his face.

"Erik," she seethed, anger resonating in the word itself.

Putting on a cynical grin he knew would off-set her, he said, "I liberated him."

"You ruined him," she nearly shouted. "He has been a wreck ever since you tampered with his mind."

"I expanded his mind."

"You call being in a sickly condition 'expanding his mind'? You are a monster."

Loki's face darkened. "If you can't love me, then leave," he told her coldly.

"Gladly. Show me the door," she spat.

Once the two arrived at the entrance, unaware still of the candleholder and teapot following them, Loki held out his arm, directing Jane towards the exit in a mockery of gentlemanly manners. Without so much as another glance in his direction, Jane began the descent to the Bi-Frost, each step a heated stomp.

Watching her as she left, Loki remained standing in the entryway, trying to calm himself. The woman was infuriating. He wondered if it wouldn't be a blessing in disguise if she could actually leave this realm. He knew she couldn't even once she arrived at the Bi-Frost, but she didn't need to know that. The walk she took would do her good. She could think over what was said and realize he was right. This was good for him, too. If in her presence any longer, he would have done something they'd both regret.

/

* * *

/

Sif watched the Asgardian prince warily as he continued standing near the entrance. "This is a disaster," she sighed. "They will never love one another. How could they?"

"No, this is good," Fandral said quietly.

"How could any of this be good? Did you not hear what I heard?"

"What I heard was the beginning of 'I love you'."

"You are a fool."

"As only fools know of love," mused Fandral.

"That explains your dealings with women."

He looked at her, but she didn't notice as her eyes were still on Loki. "It might," he said quietly.


	16. Stitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't stand so close to me, I'm having trouble breathing  
> I'm afraid of what you'll see right now
> 
> (Distance by Christina Perri)

 

"Now what he should do is run out to the Bi-Frost, meet her halfway and then have a dramatic reunion, where they fall into each other's arms and boom, the curse is lifted."

Sif gave Fandral a scathing glare.

He smiled good-naturedly at her. "I am only keeping positive."

"Please remain realistic, if you have the capacity," she sighed. "They're both sore at one another. I doubt this will end well, let alone with them 'falling into each other's arms' as you so gracefully put it."

"Stranger things have happened." A silence fell over them for a beat before the candlestick suddenly had an idea. "You have a hand for betting, don't you, Sif?"

She rolled her eyes. "I haven't a hand to gamble, now do I, Fandral?" She looked at him. "At a time like this, though? What do you have in mind?"

"I wager that our two lovebirds will, by the end of the evening, have worked out their differences."

The teapot scoffed, not concealing her laugh of disbelief. "Impossible. They will more quickly tear one another apart before seeing eye-to-eye."

"So, you have nothing to fear."

She smiled. "There's nothing to bet because there is no chance for what you say to come true."

"Are you admitting defeat?"

Her smile faded and her eyes hardened. "I do not admit defeat."

"Oh, no, Lady Sif," he said with a hint of mischief in his eyes. "It is alright to back down if you know you can't win."

"I'm not backing down from anything. I know I'll win because you are speaking the impossible."

"The bet is on?"

"What do you get if you, by some strange, twist of fate, win?"

Fandral smiled, tilting his chin towards her. "Why, Sif, what ever could I want?"

She glared at him suspiciously. "You're scheming something."

"If I win," he said, diverting her attention from that train of thought. "I would enjoy the honor of accompanying you on an official date."

The teapot blanched, eyes widening and mouth falling agape before she covered up her surprise with another laugh of disbelief. "You, Fandral, the most notorious flirt, want to spend an evening with me on some 'date'?" Her expression turned doubtful. "What could you want something like that for?"

The candlestick shrugged. "Did I not accept your challenge to wow you?"

"I did not challenge you-"

"What better way," he cut in. "to put my talents to the test than to take you on a date?"

Sif smiled at him. "All in the name of your oversized ego, I see."

He looked at her, confused. "And that means?"

"It means, you have this insatiable need to win me over, seeing as I'm one of the few women unaffected by your charms," she explained, all said in amusement.

"Perhaps," he simply replied. "You know me all too well."

"And what do I get when I win?" she asked.

"Confident, are we?" he raised his brows. "What would you like if you won?"

She stilled as she thought. Then she smiled and said, "If I win, you must quit your self-proclaimed challenge." She added, "It is embarrassing… for you." She raised her eyebrows, giving him a shrewd look.

"Fair enough. I accept."

"You're going to lose," she said smugly.

"You're forgetting one thing, fierce, little teapot."

"What is that?"

"I know love." Fandral grinned. By the end of the evening, not only would things be set in motion for the curse to be lifted, but he would have a date with that fierce, little teapot. A real one, not pretend.

/

* * *

/

 _Who did Loki think he was?_ Each stride was taken in a stomp as Jane walked briskly through the deserted realm. How could he speak so lightly of events that caused the deaths of hundreds of people? Of course, she thought bitterly, they were only 'mortals'. What care did Loki have for their lives?

/

* * *

/

 _Who did that mortal think she was?_ The horizon beyond the palace suffered the scalding gaze of the second prince as Loki stared off after the path Jane had taken earlier when she began her heated march to the Bi-Frost. She knew nothing about that day or the invasion and had no right to criticize him. Her brown eyes bearing disgust towards him flashed in his mind, but he quickly dispelled the image and focused on the path in front of him. She didn't understand the necessity of his actions. If she could only see it through his eyes, she'd understand.

/

* * *

/

Nothing Loki did made sense to Jane. Invading a world for the purpose of some 'glorious rule' was beyond her, but that wasn't what really off-set her about it. She couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that he showed no remorse for what he did. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people lost their lives because of him in that attack and yet, he wasn't concerned about them. _Hardly innocent_. There were innocents that had nothing to do with it that ended up dying when those aliens started blowing things apart. That was what really upset her. His lack of humanity. Then again, he wasn't human, was he?

That shouldn't matter, she argued in her head. Thor was Asgardian, too, and he showed compassion towards mortals, so it wasn't a race heredity flaw. Loki didn't regard humans as people. Jane slowed her pace, a small memory resurfacing in her mind. Thor, when she first met him, hadn't shown the same respect he showed towards humans now. He was arrogant once, too. Was that how Asgardians viewed human life? Irrelevant because of how short their lifespans compared? She frowned, recalling how Odin regarded her with blatant disdain as if she wasn't worth his time. Frigga hadn't acted that way.

Jane sighed, frustrated and fed up with all this nonsense. She was putting all of this behind her and forgetting she ever had complicated thoughts about Loki.

/

* * *

/

Loki wondered how mad Jane would be once she realized she couldn't leave. He almost regretted sending her away, thinking about how she'd react after finding out he sent her there for nothing. Then he recalled how close he was to lashing out at her and was relieved she wasn't in his presence.

 _Monster._ It was only a word. It shouldn't have bothered him. Was it not the truth after all? What more did he expect from her? What more did she expect from him?

Besides, she was acting like a whiny teenager, he thought spitefully.

/

* * *

/

Loki was nothing, but a bratty teenager, Jane mused. She stopped mid-step. How old was Loki? The way Asgardians aged, she wondered what his age was compared to hers in a relative sense. Was she older or younger than him? She wished she could recall how long Asgardians' lifespans tended to be, but for the life of her, she couldn't recall what Thor had told her. She shook her head. None of that mattered now. She was leaving this realm and Loki behind, letting some other lunatic break the curse. She wasn't going to be the one to do it.

Jane frowned, stopping as she approached the observatory. Did he think she could have broken it?

/

* * *

/

Jane couldn't break the curse. Fandral was wrong all along. Bringing the mortal here was a mistake. They did nothing, but argue. And now she brought up _that_ day, as if things couldn't have gotten worse. Why couldn't she see that he was right? If he was their ruler… Loki sighed. He'd thought this through over a thousand times, replaying that disastrous day in his head over and over. He had told her the deaths were necessary, and he still believed that much true, but he couldn't shake the image from his mind of her eyes tainted in faint horror. He told himself it didn't bother him.

/

* * *

/

"Lady Jane," greeted the sword.

"Uh, hey," she said, feeling ashamed and half-embarrassed that she forgot his name.

"What brings you here?"

She hesitated by the door before walking over to him. "I'm going back to Earth – or, um, Midgard." She silently congratulated herself on the correct pronunciation.

The sword eyed her with his stoic gaze curiously. "You are?"

"Yes."

"Then by all means go."

She waited. Nothing happened. "Aren't you going to send me?" she asked.

A small smile briefly lit his metallic lips as if a joke had been told before his face returned to his natural neutral state and he told her, "I can not grant you, nor anyone else passage through the Bi-Frost."

She gawked at him. Then her frown deepened and her brow furrowed. "Loki did this, didn't he?"

The sword answered, "No. Not the second prince. Another sealed transportation through the Bi-Frost."

If not Loki, then who? Jane wondered if it couldn't be the mysterious figure that started this disaster in the first place. Whoever he was, he wanted to see this to the end. Whatever this was.

"Something tells me you are here for more than longing of home," the sword stated, no question in his words.

"Nothing else," she absently replied.

"Was I deceived and had not seen a quarrel between you and Loki?"

Jane's mouth popped open in an 'o'. "How did you know about that?"

"I see many things. One of which is the troubled affair between you and the prince."

"I can't love him," she said flatly, tiring of having to repeat these words.

"I wouldn't expect an unwilling heart to be able."

She narrowed her eyes at the ground, suddenly fascinated with the etchings. "I wouldn't know anyone with the capability to love someone like him."

"Nor I anyone with a more stubborn heart."

"I'm not stubborn."

"It wasn't you I was referring to."

She looked up at him. His eyes never moved from her. "What do I do?" she asked quietly, not sure if she was asking him or herself. "He has done nice things for me, but I don't know if that's him or because of the curse. Or both? I'm confused. And even if the nice things are genuine, I don't know if I can forgive him for New York or any of the things he did to my world." Glancing at the golden, curved walls scaling up around her in an immaculate dome, Jane felt trapped. She was small and exposed in a large room with no one, but a sword for company. Her hands slid up her arms. She felt a chill.

"Are there no other reasons?" the sword asked.

Jane for half a second was about to tell him, 'no', there was nothing else when she realized she had forgotten another reason. A _big_ reason. "Oh, no, _Thor_. He's probably on earth right now, doing all he can to get me back and I am here, thinking about his brother." Noticing the inquisitive brow being raised and the amusement playing on a slight quirk of lip, she hastened to say, "That's not what it sounds like. I don't think about him. I mean, I think about him, but not in any romantic, curse-thingy way. You know what, this doesn't concern you. Why am I talking to you?"

"Yes, I've wondered that myself."

She silently cursed herself for being reminded of Thor, since it only brought back the memory of him telling her about his brother and how at one time he used to be different. She sighed. "Maybe, and this is a huge maybe," she prefaced. "He and I can be friends, but that's it. If that."

"Love can not exist in an unforgiving heart."

"How can I forgive him for something like that?" she asked honestly. She wasn't confident she could overlook something so tremendous. Stealing kittens was one thing, but grand scale invasion/murder was several thousand levels above that.

"This is a talk you should be having with someone else."

Jane didn't want him to be right, but he was so right. If she was stuck in this realm with Loki, then she should make an effort. To talk. Forgiveness was way, way down the road. She couldn't see that far down if she tried. But, talking was a good start. "Thank you for the advice." She started towards the door.

"And Lady Jane?"

Standing in the entryway, foot hallway out the door, she turned back to the sword. "Yes?"

"My name is Heimdal."

She laughed nervously. "I knew that. Why would you say that? Hamdal."

" _Heim_ dal."

"That's what I said." Before he could get in another word, she hastened down the strip of rainbow colors and headed towards the palace with new determination in her step.

/

* * *

/

"I should encourage him."

"Provoking him won't do well," Sif observed as the candlestick shuffled uneasily.

"A push in the right direction isn't too much to ask for," Fandral reasoned, already beginning to hop towards the entrance.

"A shove would be more effective. It'd get you killed faster," the teapot quipped as she watched him leave.

Fandral kept his eyes on the prince. Loki stood motionless in the doorway, head raised, chin tipped towards the path Jane took and red eyes fixated on the dome where they knew she had gone. His eyes were hardened; his posture stone rigid, not a single movement in his body, save for a slight – _so slight, Fandral panicked for half a second and wondered if it was possible to die on one's feet_ – rise of his chest. Fandral recognized this pose, this face as one of Loki's trademark masks and knew better of the turmoil of emotions no doubt crashing underneath the surface. Anger, undoubtedly, was among them; the argument between him and Jane could testify that much. What others, he did not know and with that realization, Fandral saddened at how distanced he and the prince had become over the years. Centuries ago, maybe only a few decades, he could have listed every emotion behind Loki's mask with ease as only close friends could. Loki never knew, but Fandral picked up on the subtlest of cues – the ones lost in ordinary observation. The candlestick held back a sigh as he once more asked himself, _what happened?_

Before approaching Loki, Fandral surveyed the prince's face a second time with ample concentration. He only picked up on the anger and if he indulged himself, he'd think that the prince's face was marred with worry.

/

* * *

/

Loki was not worried. Mortals were smaller, he reasoned, hence they took longer to walk from the palace to the Bi-Frost and back. How long did this walk normally take for him? He'd have to quadruple that – she was a short, little thing. Prided on his ability of manipulation and lies, there was one virtue Loki could say he mastered. Patience. He knew how to wait and the moment to act. Now he doubted his mastery over the virtue. A restlessness seized his bones. With every passing second he couldn't see the dot of a certain mortal his body urged him forward down the path her feet trampled. There was a strange, indescribable pull on Loki that he had trouble identifying. It was as if there was a war in him that divided his body into two sides, one determined to stay rooted in this spot and the other clawing, thrashing and demanding he move towards the Bi-Frost. Where Jane was. He fought against the latter.

"Loki."

He glanced to the side, noticing the candlestick shuffle up to him. "What is it?"

"It has come to my attention that the Lady Jane is taking a long time to return."

 _He noticed, too_ , a voice immediately spoke up in the back of Loki's mind, but he ignored it. "She's a mortal. It, understandably, will take her longer to return."

"Yes, true," Fandral agreed. "However, I have these worries for her. She is a fragile creature. What if her delay is because of an injury she received during her walk? What if night falls and she's caught in darkness?"

Usually, Loki would tune out these pointless conversations of Jane Fandral tried to have with him, but this one he couldn't stop thinking about. What if something did happen? What if she hurt herself? He didn't care, of course. But if something happened, then he'd lose his only means of lifting the curse. And that was all, he reminded himself.

"I will walk out to meet her," Loki interrupted Fandral's rambling, more to shut him up than to respond. Loki didn't miss the half-gleam in the candlestick's eyes and added, "I'm not worried for her sake; I'm worried for mine."

"That's what they all say."

Loki ignored the last comment and headed for the Bi-Frost, a mortal heavily occupying his thoughts.

/

* * *

/

Everyone felt guilt. Jane couldn't believe otherwise. He had to feel something over what happened. If he couldn't, then she'd never be able to move on from this. Jane frowned as she trudged across the bridge towards the gilded city. She couldn't explain it, but she wanted to move on from this. She wanted Loki to feel bad for what happened and express his guilt. Then things between them would be better. She needed to hear him be sorry for all the lost lives. No one could be so… heartless.

Was he though?

Loki _had_ been kind to her with a minimum amount of times he lost his 'cool', regardless of how she acted. He showed her his stars. He sat on a flour sack to be near her. The look on his face, the soft, confused look on his face when she went to his door, surfaced in her mind. She didn't excuse his actions against New York and she wasn't anywhere near ready to forgive him, but she was willing to try. If he did, then she would.

/

* * *

/

She had to understand. If she'd only see it from his view, she'd realize his motives and what he had done was right. Loki knew that if she'd only see things his way, she wouldn't look at him like that. Like a monster. Loki, if he had not been so determined to meet up with Jane and thus focused on his stride, would've momentarily faltered in step. She didn't have to understand, he realized. He _wanted_ her to understand. He wanted her to see his side and for some unfathomable reason, he wanted her to see him as… not a monster. Loki picked up his step, hurrying down the path.

/

* * *

/

Jane could do this. She could do this. All she had to do was walk up to Loki and -

/

* * *

/

Loki had a grip on things. He'd find that mortal and -

/

* * *

/

Jane, feet on the edge of the rainbow bridge, stared as Loki, feet several steps away from the entry gate, stared back.

They stood, breathlessly, both unwilling to make the first move.

After a small eternity, Loki spoke. "Step onto the ground."

Confused, Jane glanced at her feet, noting the rainbow streaks beneath them, before asking, "Why?"

"The last time I was on a bridge, it didn't go well."


	17. Tedium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What if I let you in on my charade?  
> What if I told you  
> What was really going on  
> No more masks and no more parts to play
> 
> (What if I Told You by Jason Walker)

 

Jane stepped down from the bridge right in front of Loki, putting her nose to chest with him, but not for long as he took a step back. For a long moment, they stared in silence. Her eyes searched his face; his trained on hers. Finally, she spoke, "What are you doing here?"

There was no hostility, none of what Loki had expected. She looked resolute about the situation as if she made up her mind on something. That he was a monster. Loki clenched his jaw and squashed those thoughts back, reminding himself that it'd do him no good to start down that train of thought, lest he do something they'd really regret. She only asked a question. She expected him to have waited back at the palace as he should have. Why was he here? "Fandral worried something had happened to you." Which was true; the candlestick did urge him to follow her.

"Well, I'm fine. Nothing happened. I was on my way back." Her face scrunched in mild disappointment as she said, "The Bi-Frost is closed."

Loki nodded, already aware, and wondered why she wasn't lashing out at him about it. "Yes, I am the one who closed it."

Jane's face clouded with confusion. "Heimdal told me someone else closed it."

"He is mistaken." Though why the guardian would lie about something like that didn't make sense to Loki, he ignored it for now.

Jane opened her mouth, but then shut it, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter who closed it. It's closed. We're struck here. That means we're struck with each other whether we like it or not." She looked into his eyes, unflinchingly and Loki idly wondered how she could bear looking into the eye of a monster. "We need to talk, Loki."

"I agree. Our previous conversation didn't end fantastically. Jane, I don't want…" _you to look at me like that_. "to keep getting under each other's skin."

She nodded. "Me, neither, but there have to be changes. Drop the act."

His eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"This act you've been playing ever since I got here." Gesturing towards him for emphasis, she continued, "Stop doing things because of the curse, okay? You obviously don't like doing that stuff. So, stop."

Eyes remaining on her, brow pinched, he wondered how her vocabulary remained confined to 'stuff'. "Clarify 'stuff'."

"You know what 'stuff'," she shifted her feet uncomfortably, not meeting his eyes for a beat before explaining, "The compliments, the picnic, the dinners - don't do that stuff just because of the curse. I mean, it was nice of you… in a way, but don't."

"What would you rather have me do?" he asked, interested to hear her answer.

She shrugged. "Be yourself."

Loki barked out a laugh. That was a good one. He grinned at her, noticing how her eyes drew to his mouth where he knew black fangs were showing. Consciously, he smiled with closed lips. "You wouldn't like that."

"How do you know?" she asked, her eyes earnest. "You never let me see the real you. You throw up these illusions and I can't tell if you're scheming or being sincere." She frowned, her eyes flickering to the side momentarily. "I can't lift this curse – I can't… feel that way towards you." She hurried to continue, "But, I don't want to keep being hostile with each other. I want to be… agreeable acquaintances."

Loki's face fell back into his mask. He didn't need for her to see his disappointment. _Friendship was a stepping stone._ That was far from what he needed, but it would have to do for now. He nodded. "Acquaintances would be more preferable than our current condition."

"But, we have to talk," Jane reiterated. "About New York."

Loki knew they had to talk about it, but that didn't mean he wanted to. He had to make her see he was right though. She had to understand.

"Loki," she continued. "I can't…" She paused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as her eyes darted down, then back up to meet his. Stronger, she continued, "Loki, I can't just forget what you did. It happened. There's nothing that can change that. A lot of people were hurt because of that… invasion or whatever you pulled and I can't be okay with that. Especially, when you treat it as if it wasn't a big deal. It was. People lost their lives." She sighed. "I can't be okay with someone who delights in destruction."

"Is that how you perceive me?" Loki asked, careful to keep the venom from his voice.

"What else would you call it? Those things you let in wreaked havoc on everything."

"Firstly, those 'things' as you have so charmingly named them are called, Chitauri. Secondly, I had no say over what those creatures did once they were on your world. Their mayhem was none of my doing. It was not how…" Loki set his jaw, shutting his mouth once he realized he was raising his voice. Taking a breath, he continued more softly, "It was not how I planned the invasion."

/

* * *

/

Jane didn't waver. Her voice remained steady. "That doesn't matter. You let them in. They were your responsibility. Lives were lost; families were destroyed. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" She searched his face carefully, searching for a sign, a hint, a clue to what he was thinking, but as always he was a mask.

"Those lives lost in the destruction were unfortunate, but what are a few lives to a glorious vision? Jane, you do not understand."

"I don't want to understand," she interrupted. "Don't try to make me understand your purpose for that." She sighed. "Look, Loki. The invasion was not okay, but that isn't what's bothering me."

His eyes turned curious. "What is it?"

"Your attitude towards everything about the invasion. You don't show any remorse for your actions or the destruction that was begotten."

"I do not regret what I did."

"How can you think the invasion was okay? After all that happened?"

"It was a failure, Jane," Loki hissed. "It was a failure, one that I did not intend. There were plans set in place and none of them accounted for the loss of bystanders. I do not regret leading the invasion, but I had not intended for innocents to be murdered in the wake of it. I am…" He trailed off.

"You're what?" she asked, waiting on another spiel on how he could've been this 'glorious ruler'.

His eyes were hard and his mouth was a firm line. Every muscle in his face strained as if it took all his power to keep his lips shut. Then, in a low voice, he said, "I am sorry."

Jane blinked. She didn't breathe. She started to feel dizzy. She needed air. With a slight gasp and clearing of the throat, she managed in a hoarse voice to get out, "What?"

Loki made a noise that sounded half way between a growl and a snarl before he said as calmly as possible, "Do not make me repeat myself, Jane Foster."

She asked, "What for?"

He breathed a long sigh. With the exhaled air, all the tension seeped from him, instead being fast replaced by mild exhaustion. "For this. For causing you undue pain." His frown deepened. "I am not sorry for what I did when I led the invasion. What I did, I did full well knowing what I was doing. I am, though, sorry for the unnecessary lives lost in the havoc that ensued." He added after a beat, "For Erik."

Jane stared. She felt her mouth slip open agape, but for half a second she couldn't remember how to close it. Loki apologized. Loki _apologized_. Not for the invasion, but for 'unnecessary lives lost', which then implied he wasn't entirely sorry for the ones he had thought 'necessary'. But, it was something. He apologized to _her_ for Erik. She didn't know if he meant it or if he was saying it to end the conversation, but for now, she would take it as a good sign. "Thank you," she said quietly. "I'm sure that wasn't easy for you."

"You have no idea."

When was the last time he apologized, she wondered, as she really thought about how big of a step this must be for him. "And I'm sorry," she added softly.

Loki straightened minutely, his eyes clearing with a new sharpness as he focused on her, his brow rising curiously. "For what?"

Jane was an adult, which meant she had to own up to her mistakes… and petulant behavior. He was making an effort, so she would, too. "I'm sorry for yelling at you and trying to leave instead of talking normally. And for the way I've acted since I got here." Nodding, she continued, "You have been nice maybe out of wanting to lift the curse or whatever - it doesn't matter. You didn't have to and yet you did. You could've gone about this in more aggressive ways but you didn't." She paused, feeling awkward from her rambling, but once she started, she wasn't sure where to stop. "What I'm trying to say is I'm not going to keep fighting you on everything anymore. I want to try to be…" She couldn't get herself to use the word 'friend' and automatically finished, "acquaintances."

/

* * *

/

Loki continued to stare at Jane Foster, taking in her apology word for word. He trapped her here. She was his prisoner. And she was apologizing to _him_ for acting like any other person would in her situation. She should be kicking and screaming at him. She should be running far away, anywhere else in the realm. She didn't. She stood in front of him, determined to stay. Why? Why would she stay? Loki didn't dare to hope anything more than 'acquaintanceship' would come from this, but he couldn't help thinking her staying meant something.

/

* * *

/

"Would it be too horrible for you to accompany a monster to dinner?"

Jane shifted uncomfortably. That was not how she thought he'd respond to her words. "You have to stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Don't refer to yourself as a monster."

"You called me a monster yourself."

Jane paused. She had. She didn't mean it though, did she? She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, recalling for the billionth time that evening the forlorn look on his face when she had asked him to dinner. "I said that out of anger," she told him honestly. "I wasn't thinking." Quietly, she said, "You're not a monster, Loki." Then hurrying to continue before he could refute her, she added, "And I asked you to dinner first. So, it's your choice, not mine."

Loki, after a moment, took her hand and looked her in the eyes. "I would be honored to accompany you to dinner."

"I said no more acting," she chided.

Face serious, no hint of mirth on his features, he replied, "I am not."

Jane didn't know what to make of that and awkwardly pulled her hand back as she said, "Uh, okay then." Flashing a small smile, she stepped past Loki and started up the path. She stopped and turned to see him standing by the bridge, staring back at her. Ignoring the chill in her spine, she said, "We should get back."

He nodded and started after her.

/

* * *

/

"There they are," Fandral exclaimed as two figures approached on the path. He grinned as he noticed how close they were walking.

Sif shuffled up next to him and looked to where he was grinning so foolishly. Her mouth popped open in alarm. "They are walking without maiming one another? What trick is this?"

"No trick," Fandral said. "They have mended their woes and it would appear they are returning to dinner for two."

The teapot stared at him in disbelief. "How did you know they would work it out? They were close to tearing one another's heads off before they left."

Fandral smiled mysteriously and replied, "I know love."

Sif scoffed, turning back to the couple on the path. The two stood so close their hands almost brushed.

"You know," Fandral said, leaning close to her. "They are really not that bad together."

"You know not what you speak."

"I do know one thing."

"And that is?"

He smirked. "We have a date."

She groaned. "By the Norns, would it not seem fit for the stars to fall from the sky with all this madness happening?" She shook herself. "First, Loki finding someone to love. Then Jane throwing away her only chance for escape and now _this_ \- you chasing after me. Is there no one sane left in all this realm?"

Fandral grinned at her.

"What?" she asked, catching his smile.

"I was wrong."

"About what?"

"Anger does become you."


	18. Little Gifts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've been asleep for days now  
> Living inside your dreams  
> You know that ain't no way to live or handle such things  
> I wanna shake up your system  
> I wanna rattle your bones  
> I want to take you to the stars and then I'll leave you alone
> 
> Farther Down by Neon Trees

 

"How?" Sif asked for the seventh time that evening as she and the candlestick watched the two seated at the table, making light conversation and eating as if all were alright.

Fandral merely smiled at her as he said, "I told you I know love."

She scoffed, turning away from him. "There was nothing in all the nine realms that could have let you known this would happen. You guessed."

"I knew."

"You guessed," Sif insisted. "What tipped you off? There was nothing, but hatred in their eyes when they departed."

"One knows."

"You're starting to sound as vexing as Loki," she spat.

Fandral feigned hurt as he said, "You wound me." Then he frowned. When did being compared to Loki become so readily an insult? Another sign he had let things slip too easily from his grasp.

"I should only do as much," she shot back.

"Will you be this lovely on our date?" he teased, grinning at her.

She rolled her eyes. "You tricked me."

"How could I if I did not know?"

She frowned, narrowing her eyes at him.

He continued grinning.

She sighed. She was done with this nonsense. The curse, now this. Was Thor any better off on Midgard? Had he discovered a way to fix this?

/

* * *

/

Soft whirring drifted through the air, the only sound in the laboratory. Those gathered were struck into silence as they stared at what was in front of them.

"Tony," Bruce said, eyes glued on the object.

"Yes?"

"When you said you opened a portal," Bruce continued, "You could've started with, 'Uh, and it's the size of an ant'." He gave the billionaire a tired glare.

Tony threw his hands up, returning the scientist's glare with a raised brow. "Yeah, but it opened. This is a huge breakthrough. I was hoping for a little more excitement." He gestured with his hands to emphasis his point until Bruce finally sighed and nodded.

On the table in front of them, there hovering in the air was a bluish, purplish disc the size of a nickel that when faced directly didn't seem like much else, but an endless void.

"This is what's going to get us to Jane?" Darcy asked, standing next to Thor who, too, stood back from the scientists as they examined the portal.

Bruce nodded, but Tony answered, "Not exactly. This is only the beginning." Tony stepped towards another holographic screen, running his hands over it as he continued, "We found a way to stabilize a portal. Now we have to do the same thing, only bigger."

Darcy frowned. "So, basically, you have to blow up Jane's lab another hundred times."

Tony gave her a glare. "It was only twelve and _no_. It means we're close to meeting fist with an egotistical god."

"Hey," a voice shouted angrily from behind them. They turned to find a cranky, sleepy Hawkeye standing in the doorway, holding an empty box of breakfast food. "Who ate all my waffles?"

"It's two in the morning," Darcy groaned. "You weren't supposed to find out about that until you woke up tomorrow."

"I felt a disturbance in my breakfast," he deadpanned. "I know you ate them, Lewis. You're coming with me to the store right now."

"Busted," Tony sang.

"All the stores are closed," Darcy pointed out, ignoring the billionaire.

"Not the supermarket," Clint countered, firm in his resolve.

Pointing at Thor, she said, "He ate them, too."

Thor stood by with wide eyes, unable to do more than stare between the two.

Clint nodded. "Whatever. Let's go. Waffles. Now." Over his shoulder as he rounded out, he called, "Grab your wallet, Lewis."

Darcy rolled her eyes, turning to the scientists. "I told you. Knots galore." Smiling at Thor, she said, "Let's hit it, Thunder Boy."

"Another playful expression?" he asked.

"Now you're getting it."

/

* * *

/

Loki watched Jane carefully. The air was tense, but less so than earlier and he was relieved for that. Talking at the bridge seemed to brush aside some of the tension, but there still hung between them unease and he wasn't sure how to rid of it.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, pushing her chair out and standing.

Loki bit back the disappointment, telling himself he should have expected she would not want to dine with him and that she came back at all was more than he could have asked of her. He was confused, however, when she did not start for the door as he expected her, but instead was grabbing her chair and dragging it towards him. He waited, not voicing his puzzlement, as she pulled it all the way to the corner of the table on his right and placed it there. Before settling down, she marched back to the other end and grabbed her plate and silverware, coming back and placing it in front of her chair. Then, once she was done, she smiled at him.

"There," she said. "This is better." She shrugged as way of explanation, continuing, "It always felt weird sitting so far away." She hesitated, but then added, "In… Midgard, we usually sit close during meals. This long table never felt comfortable to me."

It was becoming startling how often she was surprising him, but he did not let this show. Instead, he smirked and said, "This is better."

/

* * *

/

Thor observed the mortals curiously as they sifted through the many shelves, some rushing and others taking their time. They were taking various items and placing them in a metal contraption Darcy had called 'cart'.

This was his first time attending a 'supermarket', being that there was no need for him to venture into one before. S.H.I.E.L.D. or Tony - whenever he would run into the billionaire, resulting in being dragged along into an outing – would usually supply him with the necessary nutrients to satiate his gullet. Now that he was accompanying fellow Clint and Lady Darcy, he was alighted at all there was to see. Midgardians, all shapes and sizes, were bustling around, searching for items.

"This reminds me of something similar on Asgard," Thor remarked to Darcy as she scanned over the section of wall with frosted glass structured across it with dozens of boxes inside. "But they are outside and not usually confined in buildings. Æsir set up stands and sell their items thusly."

Darcy snorted. "Did you just say, 'thusly'?" She shot him a crooked grin and raised eyebrow before opening the door on the glass and retrieving a box labeled, 'Blueberry Explosion Waffles' and closing the door once more. "Alright," she continued as she began walking, "Now let's get a few more things and…" she trailed off.

"And what, Darcy?" Thor prompted when the brunette stopped.

She stood in front of a section of various foods. Her back was to him. Her hands clutched the waffles box. Her head slightly bent down. She was quiet. All was still. Then in a voice so soft Thor thought he had imagined it, she whispered, "Please be okay."

Thor stepped closer. "What?" he asked.

Darcy suddenly stood straighter and pivoted to look at him, flashing a big grin and all the shadows that overcame her small frame mere moments ago vanished without a trace as if nothing had happened, leaving him to wonder if anything had.

"Hey, there's something I want to check out over there," she said, turning towards a part of the store they had not been. She was acting as though she was fine.

She was not fine, Thor decided. He knew she wasn't. It was in her eyes. Bright blues with dark clouds in the distance. Thor wanted to clear those skies so dearly.

As soon as she moved, Thor had a better view of what she had been looking at. Pockets of Hot. Hot Pockets, as Darcy had corrected him, he reminded himself. A particular box caught his eye. The same kind they had eaten the last time they saw Jane.

Darcy was already busying herself among various knickknacks when he approached her, but he could not let her play this façade any longer. "Lady Darcy," he said.

"Thor," she held out a strange, plastic spring and continued, "This is a mystical Midgardian object, the Slinky. Neat, right?"

"Darcy," Thor repeated, his face serious. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Nothing's wrong."

"You saw the last piece of sustenance you ate while in Jane's company," he said, pausing when her face darkened, but continued, "And your eyes clouded."

She sighed, shrugging, placing the slinky back on the shelf. "I keep kicking myself over it, you know?"

Thor almost asked why she was 'kicking herself', decided better against it and held his tongue, waiting for her to continue.

"If I had been there-"

"Darcy," Thor interrupted, realizing where she was going with this. "You do not know that."

"Yeah, well, you're right. What happened, happened." She shrugged. "Can't help, but wonder about the 'what if's though. I took a course on philosophy for a semester. Class made you question everything." She half-smiled, looking up at him. "It's whatever. I'm okay. Let's get going."

She started towards the counter at the front with a man behind it and Thor followed her. He could not stand seeing his friend like this. It was clear she was struggling with Jane's absence as much as he. There had to be a way to cheer her up.

Clint was waiting in the car. As Thor got in, Darcy suddenly said, "I forgot something."

"I will go with you," he was about to get back out, but she held up her hand.

"It will only take a second."

"It better take half," Clint grunted, setting a glare on her as he spun a drum stick between his fingers.

"It'll take a quarter," Darcy shot back and then told Thor, "Two seconds."

She hurried back into the store, quickly returning moments later.

"Two minutes, thirty-three seconds," Clint stated when she hopped in the back next to Thor.

"Whatever."

"What did you forget?" Thor asked.

"Nothing important," she replied.

"It was two minutes, thirty-three seconds important," Clint mumbled from the front.

"I'll have you know that's record time."

Thor let the two bicker and continued to ponder what he could do to brighten Darcy's dreary mood. Wondering about this evidently led him thinking about Jane. What was she doing now? It chilled him to think of her in his brother's clutches. What was he doing to her? He frowned, shoving all the horrid thoughts that came to mind. Loki wasn't doing anything, he assured himself. Jane was most likely locked away in the dungeon. Somehow that didn't ease his worry. What if she wasn't getting enough nutrients? What if Loki had left her down there with no food or water? He wouldn't do that. Loki was meticulous. Surely, he wouldn't let her starve. Thor hoped. He sighed. None of this worrying was going to help. All he could do was wait and pray to the Norms Tony and Bruce would create a stable portal in time. He could only imagine the horrors Jane was subjected.

/

* * *

/

"I'm serious," Jane insisted, barely stifling a laugh.

"You did not," Loki chided, smirking at her, holding back a chuckle of his own.

"I did. When I was twelve, I had a crush on this guy and to get his attention, I entered the talent show. But, my friend and I accidentally switched costumes and I ended up dressed as a banana. And I," she paused to work through a giggle before continuing, "And I started serenading him. I was so awkward; I just sang the first song I could think of and made a fool of myself in front of the entire school."

"That sounds like quite the sight," Loki remarked, curious as to why Midgardians had costumes of fruits, but noticed she was trying to say something and held back the question.

Once she got her laughter down, Jane smiled and asked, "Have you ever done something so utterly embarrassing for a crush before?"

He smirked. "Not for a 'crush' as you say. In Asgard, we do not refer to people we are attracted to as 'crushes'. Why is the name so absurd on Midgard? What does it mean?"

Jane opened her mouth, then paused. She hadn't thought about it before. It was just always what they were called. She shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Really, Jane, you're from Midgard. You should have a better grasp of your own customs." _You're one to talk_ , a voice bitterly reprimanded him, but he ignored it.

She waved her hand dismissively. "You're dodging my question."

"I'm not dodging anything."

"Embarrassing story. Crush."

"What makes you so sure I want to tell you?"

"I told you one. It's only fair."

"And since when have I ever been fair?" He was rather enjoying the conversation. They never sat down and spoke to one another as… acquaintances. They weren't quite friends yet. Loki briefly frowned, but then continued smirking. They weren't friends _yet_? Since when did he end that thought with the signification of hope? Jane's eyes caught his attention then. They glittered prettily when she smiled. Maybe there was something to hope for if she could look upon his hideous form like _that_.

"I've never made the accusation that you were. I only want to hear a story and it's starting to sound like you don't have one to share."

Loki did have a story. And it was embarrassing. But, he wasn't ready to talk about _that_. He wasn't sure if he'd ever be ready to talk about her again. There were few who knew of _that_ incident, probably exclusively Fandral, Sif and Thor, but it was better this way. The fewer who knew, the less it was brought up. Though now Jane was touching the subject. She wasn't asking directly, but she may as well have. He had done something embarrassing for a so-called 'crush' as Jane would say, but that was one of his lowest days. Feeling he let himself hesitate a moment too long, he plucked from his memory the second most embarrassing time he could think of, which was substantially less than the first. "There was one girl," he began, noticing Jane's smile as he spoke. How could she bear looking upon his face? He brushed the thought aside. "She was a fierce, young maiden. She was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever laid eyes on. I was hopelessly smitten."

"The great and powerful Loki, smitten," Jane teased, trying to picture a younger Loki following after a young girl. It was hard to imagine the Loki she knew with this 'hopelessly smitten' one.

"Yes, hard to believe I felt the same as any other teenager," he said dryly, but smirking nonetheless. "As I was saying, hopelessly smitten. Looking back, I realize there was no reason to have been so taken with her. I hardly knew her. It was only her looks that bewitched me. And yet, I unfailingly trailed after her, love sick."

"What was her name?"

Here Loki's smirk widened. "You are well acquainted with her."

Jane thought a moment and then gasped aloud, her mouth popping into an 'O'. "The teapot," she exclaimed, staring at him in open shock.

A chuckle slipped his throat upon watching her expression. "You seem to be forgetting she wasn't always a teapot."

Jane's mouth shut and the shock ebbed away slightly, but she was still staring at him in bewilderment. "Right, that's right. Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just not used to thinking of her as anything, but a teapot, you know?"

Sif frowned deeply. "Listen to them. As if we're not here."

Fandral nodded. "Yes, as we shouldn't be."

She glared at him. "We are staying here. We have to make sure nothing happens to Jane."

"I think they'll be just fine on their own."

"Fandral-"

"Trust me, Sif," he said, smiling at her. "I know-"

"Finish that sentence and as soon as we're human again, I will cut your tongue out."

"Noted," he said, straightening up, smile still plain on his face. "We really should be leaving them alone."

"How can you trust him? Blindly, I might add."

Fandral watched as Loki and Jane continued talking. Loki's gaze never left her eyes. "They'll be fine." His smile turned mischievous as his eyes lighted on the teapot. "Besides, I believe you owe me a date."

Her face became appalled. "You are not seriously suggesting I leave the mortal in _his_ hands _alone_ to go on some frivolous date with you!"

He raised his eyebrows, smile candidly on his face.

"This realm has gone mad."

"And what a beautiful chaos. Lovely evening to dine on a balcony."

Sif glared at him for a second. Then she glanced back at the two. They were smiling. _Loki_ was chuckling. When was the last time she saw anything genuine on that face? Albeit, a blue face. She sighed. "We will leave them alone," she relented. "However," she turned sharply to Fandral. "I pick the day for our date and today is not that day."

"I love it when a woman takes charge," he purred.

"Cool your wick," she scolded. "I will tell you the day when I am ready. Until then, you better plan an evening I'd enjoy." She smirked, adding, "'Wow me'."

With that, the candlestick and teapot left the two at the table to continue their conversation alone.

"Go on," Jane encouraged. "What did you do to embarrass yourself?"

"I'm getting to that part, impatient one," he chastised.

Jane listened with rapt attention as he went on to explain how Sif always preferred the other prince – she noted how he did not say 'brother' – and would thus ignore him. Thor, on the other hand, was too distracted by other girls to notice her. Loki thought he could get her attention by creating an illusion of her favorite flowers that would never die. Long story short, it went horribly wrong and her hair blackened, never to be its golden curls again.

Jane's mouth fell open. "You didn't."

Loki looked pleased with himself as he said, "She has hated me since."

"But, it was an accident. Surely she would have understood," she protested. It sounded like a kind gesture on his part. Sif should have realized he meant well.

"Accident or not, she loathed what I had done and she has hardly expressed any form of forgiveness towards me."

The conversation lulled for a moment. Jane decided to use the opportunity to take a risk.

"Who was your first kiss?"

He started, looking at the gleam in her eye. This was beginning to brush upon a subject he'd rather keep hidden. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he asked carefully, "Why do you ask?"

Jane wouldn't out and say it, but truthfully, this was the first time Loki had opened up to her since she arrived at the palace and she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to learn a thing or two about him. When would she ever get the chance to ask about his childhood again? Maybe she'd finally hear about the Loki Thor always talked about, the one he missed dearly… the one that reminded him of her. "Well, we're talking about crushes and it reminded me of that. I was just wondering."

Loki remembered his first kiss clearly as if it were yesterday. He didn't want to remember it though. "Sif," he lied. There was a pang in his chest, but he ignored it.

Jane's eyebrow predictably quirked as she asked, "I thought you said it hadn't gone well between you two? I mean, the hair-"

"It didn't," he admitted. "But, that doesn't mean I didn't try something more desperate to get her attention."

Jane frowned here. "What did you do?"

He continued to smirk, but her frown somehow made him uncomfortable. He squashed the discomfort into the pit of his stomach and continued, "I took on a disguise."

Jane's eyes widened. "As Tho-"

"Fandral," he cut in sharply. He didn't want to hear _his_ name on _her_ lips. "I created the illusion of Fandral."

Her eyebrows continued to furrow. "But, she was more interested in Tho-"

" _Yes_ , however, at the time she was also inclined towards the swordsman," after confusion passed her face, he added, "The candlestick."

It was so strange to imagine Fandral as an actual person, having seen him in his candlestick persona for so long. Jane wanted to ask what he had looked like, but forgone the question, more interested in the mischief Loki had gotten himself in. "This obviously did not end well," she mused, waiting for him to continue.

He smirked. "No, it did not."

"So, you disguised yourself as Fandral, talked to her and somehow convinced her to kiss you?" Jane surmised, thinking it was petty of him to have stooped so low and use someone else's face to get what he wanted. It prompted her to wonder who else he had disguised himself over the years. It was creepy to think about.

Loki could read the discomfort on her face and forced himself not to frown. He wanted her to smile as she had earlier. "Not exactly," he began. "I shrouded myself as Fandral on a day I knew he would be on an errand away from the palace. Sif was practicing her swordsmanship in the courtyard. I drew a sword and demanded a duel. She accepted. During our duel, I flirted with her incessantly and towards the end, stole a kiss." He paused, making a face. "I hadn't perfected my illusion skills at the time. The moment I made contact with Sif, the illusion evaporated. I was caught immediately. She shoved me to the ground and in the chaos that followed, I broke three ribs." He held up his fingers to emphasize.

"You got what you deserved," Jane said.

Ah, there was that smile. Loki relaxed under her warm countenance, relishing in the fact that it was directed towards him. "Fandral wasn't too fond of what I had done, either."

"I can only imagine," she said dryly.

"Because of what I did, Sif refused to speak to Fandral for months, paranoid it was really I attempting to trick her again. He was miffed at me, too. Back then he doted on her more fondly than my brother or I ever did."

His _brother_ , Jane noted. This may have been the first time she heard him refer to Thor as anything so familiar or at all. She laughed as she remembered the candlestick entering her room to ask a question… for a 'friend'. "I think he has a thing for her now." Loki's brow rose. She explained, "He recently asked me for dating advice towards a certain teapot."

He looked at her puzzled and asked, "You? Had he gone mad?"

Jane grinned. "Hey, I'm not so bad."

"Says the woman who dressed as a - banana, was it?"

"I told you that in confidence!"

They both started laughing. When they quieted down, they settled into a comfortable silence. Both glanced away when each realized they were staring at the other. Loki cleared his throat and said quietly, "Jane," he looked at her again just as she caught his eye.

"Yes?" she asked. Her smile was radiant. He wondered how he could elicit that smile more often.

He pursed his lips, thinking through his words carefully. This was something he had wanted to ask for a while now. Since she first arrived. Now seemed to be an appropriate time. "What would you think if I were always to be in this monstrous form?"

As he expected she frowned. He waited to hear how she'd loathe it. How seeing him this way repulsed her.

"I wouldn't mind," she said. "I've only seen you like this and I'm used to it now. At first, I was surprised, but I never thought of you as looking 'monstrous'. I wish you wouldn't keep saying that, by the way." It can't be good for his self-esteem, she reasoned, but decided against saying aloud in fear it'd touch a wire with him. "And anyway, it wouldn't matter to me if you kept looking like this or your normal self. You're you no matter what you look like." She shrugged, gesturing with her hands as she said, "There's a saying on Midgard – I don't know if there's a similar one on Asgard, but it's something like, 'It's what's on the inside that counts'."

Loki smirked. "And what is on my 'inside'?"

Jane answered honestly, "I don't know yet. I've only seen what you let me, but I doubt that's all there is to you. I want to find out what else there is to know about you."

He stared at her. She never ceased surprising him.

/

* * *

/

Having arrived back at Jane's, Thor had started walking into the observatory, almost too lost in his thoughts to notice when Darcy stopped in front of him. He watched her expectantly as she turned to face him.

"Here," she said, holding out her hand. "I got you this." He looked at her with a raised brow, prompting her to explain, "It's what I 'forgot'."

He gazed into her palm, noting a tiny hammer with vague etchings that if largely imagined could be like the ones on Mjölnir.

"It's Mew Mew," she explained, "I thought it was cute. Now you have the regular and the miniature version."

A smile lit Thor's face at the nickname. "Thank you. I will cherish it," he promised, picking it up as delicately as he could between his thumb and finger, and then cradling it in his palm.

"Here, get out your phone," she said, holding out her hand, waiting.

He did as told, and she took the miniature Mew Mew and his phone, attaching the tiny hammer to the phone by a cord. "It's a phone charm," she explained, "Now you'll have both with you all the time." She waved her hands in a significant gesture, saying, "Only thou who isth worthy shall pick up this phone and blah, blah, blah – you get it." She smiled and he returned it.

He had to get her something now. Something that would light up her day, the way she lit up his. For only a brief moment, she made him forget his worries and the weight on his chest slackened.

/

* * *

/

Loki paced his room. "I want to do something for her," he told Fandral as the candlestick watched him from atop his dresser. "But, what?"

"Flowers?" the candlestick suggested.

"No, something big. Something she'd love."

Loki had awoken this morning, especially restless. The previous evening with Jane was imprinted on his mind and he could not displace her smile from his thoughts. He didn't know what to make of this and didn't dwell on the subject too long for fear he'd realize something he'd rather not know about himself. However, he found that he had a strong desire to do something for her.

"She doesn't know her way around the palace all too well. There are rooms she has never seen," Fandral tilted his head, hoping the prince would catch on quickly enough. As to be expected, a spark shifted in Loki's red eyes.

"I have the perfect idea," he said, a smile forming on his face.

/

* * *

/

Loki waited outside Jane's door after having knocked. She opened it a moment later. He was surprised and admittedly disappointed to see her in her Midgardian clothes. Sif must have had a servant wash them, he noted.

"Oh, hey, Loki," she greeted. She looked down and continued, "I was getting a little tired of dresses all the time and asked Sif to help wash my regular clothes."

"I could always give you different clothes," – Asgardian clothes that better flattered her petite frame than the frumpy rags she wore now – "if you'd like."

Jane tilted her head, thinking how thoughtful that was. "That would be nice," she admitted. "Thank you." She opened the door wider, but remained on the threshold. "Was there something you needed?" He only came to see her to escort her to dinner or breakfast, but they had breakfast an hour ago. What could he want?

He straightened. "No, however, I have a surprise for you today."

She hesitated. Quietly, she mumbled, "We can't lift the curse…"

He nodded. He knew they wouldn't. That didn't mean he couldn't do this for her. "You must see the surprise, regardless of the curse." He added, "And you must close your eyes until we arrive."

"It's a place?"

"You will see when we get there."

She wasn't too sure about this. Then again she couldn't resist the allure of a surprise.

"Alright," she nodded finally. "Lead me."

"Close your eyes."

She complied. "Alright."

He waved a hand in front of her face. When she did not flinch, he said, "Follow the sound of my voice."

Although able to touch her, as evident when his hands brushed against hers while they were outside on that picnic, there was still a heavy unease in his stomach at the thought of his revolting, blue hand touching hers. He remembered vividly how Volstagg's arm turned black under a frost giant's touch.

Loki began leading her down the halls, beckoning her to take turns left and right until they finally arrived at the door. It was a large door, bright blue with golden handles.

"Can I open them?" Jane asked.

"Not yet."

He swung open the doors, stepping inside. Once in the center of the room, having coaxed Jane with him, Loki directed her so she would be standing in a way where she would see the most of everything. "Alright," he whispered, standing close to her side. "Open them."

Jane gasped. She stood in the middle of a room and surrounding her was the most extensive collection of books she had ever seen. Shelf upon shelf, row after row, lined from one end to the other with books of all sizes. There was so much to learn. So much to read. Jane could feel herself nearly bouncing with excitement. Then she deflated just as quickly. Turning to Loki, a suspicious note in her voice, she said, "I don't want any more 'gestures'."

It took a moment as he was lost in how beautiful her grin looked, but Loki realized what she meant. "This isn't about the curse. It had occurred to me that you live in the palace and yet you only know how to get to the kitchen and the dining room. I thought you would better spend your time in here."

The grin that blossomed across her face was enough for Loki to decide this was the best decision he made since she arrived. "Thank you," she said before taking off to explore. His eyes followed her, but he remained put.

Jane's eyes flew over the shelves. One book in particular caught her attention. It was thick, bound in red leather and had gorgeous golden letters. She heaved it off the shelf, beginning to admire it in her hands. Her smile fell when she looked upon the words, but immediately brightened as she turned her face towards Loki. "This is Asgardian writing, isn't it?" She continued before he could answer, "You must read these to me. I bet they're amazing. This one looks especially amazing."

Loki couldn't help the smirk tugging on his lips. "That's a children's book." She looked from the book to him in astonishment. He explained, "They're a collection of bedtime stories for young ones."

She held the book out to him. He eyed her in confusion. She said, "I have to hear you read it. This could be my only chance to learn about Asgard. I'll start with the fundamentals. Everyone on Asgard would know these stories, right? Please tell me what it says."

He nodded once, gesturing towards a table. "If you so wish it, I will tell you." As soon as she took a seat and placed the book in front of her, he sat in the seat beside her, careful not to sit too close, but enough that he could read the book over her shoulder.

Jane waited patiently for him to settle. Once he had, she asked, "What is the title?"

/

* * *

/

Fandral heaved a sigh of relief. "Here they are. I found them," he turned to Sif who shuffled next to him.

"In the library?" Sif peeked inside. Her eyes widened. "Is- is he-?"

"It would appear so."

Loki and Jane sat at a table. Loki held the corner of a page, ready to turn it when finished, his eyes intent on the words in front of him. Jane, sitting close to him, had her attention rapt on him, listening. Fandral noted she was leaning towards Loki, hung up on his every word. A grin spread across the candlestick's face.

"Wait," Sif spoke up, her brow furrowed. "Isn't there a trick to make non-Æsir able to read our writings?"

There was. Fandral remembered that one… it ended with both their eyebrows burned off and an angry fire giant. Worth it. Now it would seem Loki was showing restraint in dabbling in that particular trick. But, Fandral didn't tell Sif that.


	19. Overlap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, who'd have thought?  
> Well, bless my soul  
> Well, who'd have known?  
> Well, who indeed?  
> And who'd have guessed they'd come together on their own?  
> It's so peculiar.  
> We'll wait and see  
> A few days more  
> There may be something there that wasn't there before  
> You know, perhaps there's something there that wasn't there before
> 
> Something There that Wasn't There Before from Beauty and the Beast

 

 _Fandral had to admit,_ this _was new. And albeit, uncomfortable, it_ did _give him a new perspective on the world. An upside down perspective, but a new one, nonetheless._

_He wondered when it went wrong – was it when he flirted with her or with her sister? Whichever it was, he ended strung up by his feet, hanging from a tree branch and he still couldn't remember how. Farm maidens were scary, he decided. Next time, he would try a different approach. For now, he had to figure out how to get down. The knots were too tight and his knife was nowhere to be found, though on the ground something shiny caught the sunlight. He heaved himself up, gripping the rope and started pulling at the knots. He grunted, going limp, letting himself hang freely. They were not going to unravel any time soon. He squeezed his eyes tight, dreading the horrible rush his head was experiencing. Curse farm girls and their strong hands. He took it back. Thank Odin's beard for farm girls and their strong hands. He could never stay mad at the ladies. No matter they strung him up in a tree. This was not the worst situation he had been in._

_"_ _Well, you seem to be in a bind."_

_Fandral's eyes flew open and he cocked his head, angling it towards the voice. He caught sight of a head of black hair standing below him. The boy, who looked not much older than himself, was clad in shades of green and black leather. His clothes, though somehow vaguely familiar, did not look like the clothes boys from his village wore._

_"_ _I, honestly, have seen worse days," Fandral admitted, smiling unabashedly._

_"_ _Are you alright up there?" the boy asked, but the amusement on his face threw off the concern in his voice and Fandral could guess the boy wasn't sympathetic to his dilemma._

_Fandral grinned anyway, crossing his arms across his chest casually as if nothing was out of the ordinary about his spot. "Oh, you know, just_ hanging _around."_

_The boy's lip quirked into a half-smirk at the remark and he responded, "If it's no concern to you then, I guess I'll let you hang in there and be on my way."_

_"_ _I should be fine. And you?"_

_"_ _Me?" the boy asked, looking momentarily surprised by the offer and then his face fell into what Fandral could only describe as a practiced mask. He hid his emotions well, but they peeked through only slightly and Fandral could tell the boy was suddenly guarded._

_"_ _Yes," Fandral began carefully. He didn't want the boy to disregard him and leave, but he didn't want to cut their fun short and directly ask to be let down. Their banter was delightful. "I noticed you aren't from here. By your clothes."_

_"_ _Funny you should notice anything with so much blood rushing to your head." His voice had an edge that wasn't there before. He was drawing back ever so slightly._

_Fandral hurried to continue, "Why, yes, true, but even with so much red in my eyes, I can see plainly that you are a… uh…" What else but a – " n-nomad." He finished with what he hoped was a confident smile._

_The boy's mask wavered as he broke into a laugh. "And you a peculiar bred of Æsir that hangs as a bat."_

_Then the boy did something Fandral had not expected. He climbed the tree and sat on the branch where he hung. "Welcome to my abode," Fandral quipped, trying to act aloof, but was that boy always wearing a red shirt?_

_"_ _Plenty of fresh air," the boy remarked, sitting casually next to Fandral's knot almost out of his line of sight._

_"_ _It's a room with a view."_

_"_ _Hmm," the boy hummed. "It is… acceptable."_

_There was a note of disdain, but Fandral couldn't fathom why. Though upside down, there was a magnificent view of the Realm Eternal. "I wouldn't trade this view for anything."_

_"_ _Not even a knife?"_

_Fandral lurched, craning his head to look at the boy, but he was difficult to see. A glint just above the knot, however, caught in the light. Fandral held his breath. His weight dropped fast and the branch beneath him came up in a flash He reached, but missed. All his breath went out of him in a strangled heave when he belly flopped on the ground. He groaned. He needed to lie there. He was not getting up._

_"_ _You're fine," a foot nudged his shoulder. "Get up and thank me properly."_

Fine _? Tell that to his_ stomach _. He lifted his head, scowling at the smirk on the boy's face. "Thank you? For what? Nearly breaking my neck?"_

_The boy rolled his eyes. "From a fall so short? You fret over nothing. I rescued you."_

_"_ _Rescued, he says," Fandral mocked, now though he was smiling. "What am I, a damsel in distress?"_

_"_ _You're an ugly damsel if I ever saw one."_

_Fandral's mouth popped open in an 'O', then quickly fell into a grin as he pushed himself to his feet. "Who, Sir, do you call 'ugly'? Why, I would make a lovely damsel. Better than you deserve."_

_"_ _I wouldn't waste my time rescuing a damsel if I knew you'd be the consequence."_

_Fandral chuckled. He so enjoyed their banter, whoever this boy was. "I'd rescue myself before I let you rescue me." The boy smirked wider in response._

_"_ _Is that what you call dangling from a tree?"_

_"_ _I almost had it. Just needed my knife."_

_The boy looked down. With his foot, he pointed at Fandral's dropped weapon. "You mean this knife?"_

_Fandral hesitated. He swooped down, grabbing the knife quickly and stood straight up again, trying to retain his dignity. "Yes."_

_The boy looked up at where the knot had hung previously. "From all the way up there?"_

_Fandral looked from the boy to the branch before saying, "It's a talent." He continued before the boy could speak, "How do you feel about a challenge?"_

_The boy's smirk lessened. "Quick to change subjects, are you? What kind of challenge?"_

_Fandral felt his brain burn out for a moment. He only suggested a challenge to change focus, but now he was put on the spot. "Climbing the tree," he said after frantically searching around with his eyes, which he hoped didn't look to suspicious._

_The boy stared at him skeptically. "I just got you out of the tree."_

_"_ _And now you have the chance to rescue me again. Winner rescues loser." What was he even saying? He was better than this. At least, he took the focus off the knife thing._

_"_ _How is that at all a prize?" the boy scoffed._

_"_ _You get to look at this gorgeous face."_

_"_ _I'll pass."_

_Fandral was about to protest as he didn't want their fun to end, when a voice far off in the distance began calling for someone. He couldn't quite make out the name._

_The boy frowned. "I have to leave. That's my father." He turned without another word or glance._

_"_ _My name's Fandral. I didn't catch yours," he called after the boy was already far along._

_The boy stopped, turning to look over his shoulder. There was a moment of silence and then, "I didn't throw it."_

_Fandral rolled his eyes. "Throw it then."_

_"_ _Loki." A mischievous smirk lit the boy's face._

_Fandral instantly placed the name and realized why the boy seemed familiar – the second prince of Asgard. Why was he this far from the palace? He returned the smirk with a grin as he replied, "Don't think that'll make me go easy on you in our challenge,_ Prince _."_

_Loki startled. Then a smile spread on his lips, but only for a second. He was composed again and the mask in place, but Fandral had seen it. A flicker of surprise, but something else, too. Almost like… relief._

_"_ _I might think about taking you up on your challenge," Loki said and then began running towards the voice._

It was an age before he moved. An age longer before he processed what was running through his mind. When Fandral found the ability, he swallowed and cleared his throat to disrupt the thick silence suffocating him. It wasn't important. It was a blip in his memory. Why he remembered it now, he had no idea, but it wasn't important. What was important was lifting the curse.

Fandral pushed the memory to the back of his mind and instead reflected on how civil Loki's and Jane's breakfast had gone over. They spoke pleasantly enough, and she sat on his right again. This was progress. If it continued, they'd be in love in no time. If only Sif would help him move this along, they'd lift this curse faster. She was stubborn, that woman, but that was something he liked about her. There she was now. Fandral grinned as he saw the teapot shuffling along the corridor ahead of him. He found it funny that even as a teapot she looked fierce. Her fragility was concealed beneath her hardened expression.

/

* * *

/

Sif wandered the palace idly, trying to pass the time in any way she could. Waiting was a dull option, but it was the only one available. There wasn't much she could offer to help, besides make sure Loki didn't fly off into a rage and harm the mortal and even then she couldn't do much to prevent something as that. If she had her body… no, there was still not much she could do. Loki stopped all travel through the Bi-Frost and even if she could get to Thor, what would she do? Tell him to find someone to break the curse faster? No one could ever love that monster. There had to be another way. For the Norm's sake, someone spare the mortal the horror of becoming that monster's object of affection. She knew what _that_ was like and that was when he was halfway decent. Now look at him.

She was still peeved at him for changing her hair color. He never explained why he had done that. If she recalled that day correctly, she awoke with her hair black and instantly confronted the one person she knew capable of pulling off such a feat and he didn't explain himself. She didn't know his reasons and she didn't care to find out. He was always a snake, but at least he was harmless back then. His tricks were just that. Tricks. Now he was something more dangerous. Unrecognizable. She couldn't remember when the change took place. Not that any of that mattered now. She had to focus on keeping things under control. However, with Loki around, that was almost impossible.

That aside, there was another irritating issue to address. Fandral. He had been acting strange since this whole mess started. Not at the beginning, she noted, recalling how they hadn't run into each other much before the mortal arrived. After Jane arrived, however, that was when he started looking at her all heart-eyed and foolish. Why, she had no idea. He was a thoughtless romantic, she reasoned and all this chasing Loki and Jane around, trying to get them together was making him more fool-hearted than usual. If anything, it would pass, whatever it was, like her crush she had on him centuries ago. That didn't pass fast enough. As soon as she realized what a dog he was, she didn't feel a thing for him anymore. She didn't need someone like that anyway. She didn't need anyone. Although, that wasn't to say, she didn't _want_ anyone. If only he wasn't so oblivious.

"Sif."

She held back a sigh and turned to watch Fandral sidle up next to her. "Fandral," she greeted.

"I should tell you how well breakfast had gone over." He paused, grinning that foolish smile again. "If I'm not mistaken, good things should be over the horizon."

"Is that Asgard's or Midgard's horizon?"

Fandral's alighted mood didn't dwindle. "You mock what you don't know."

"I do not mock. I make a prudent point."

"It matters not which horizon," he continued, "Only that we are fast approaching it."

"In your eyes or theirs?"

"Both," he replied without hesitance. "They will see. I know it."

Sif looked at him. There was so much hope in his eyes. She wondered where he mustered it from. "For their sake and Asgard's, I hope you're right."

/

* * *

/

The library was silent, save for an occasional rustling of pages. The prince was searching carefully through the titles of books, a certain subject plaguing his mind. There had to be information on it. This was the library of Asgard – there was virtually everything here. If it was anywhere, it was here.

It was not. Closing his eyes, Loki heaved a long sigh. What did he expect? In all his years, he had traversed this library countless times and never in all his perusing had he discovered anything of the nature – what made this time any different? He was searching this time. The subject was relative. It mattered. For once. Alas, nothing turned up.

Except for _that_ one. But, children's stories were hardly reliable resources.

He skipped that one when reading to Jane, he remembered. Deliberately, of course. He knew that story as if it was burned into the inside of his skull. When he noticed they were coming upon it, he instinctively thumbed several pages to skip it over, hoping she would not notice. She did - _of course, she did_ – and protested, making a point of wanting to know everything. Observant Jane Foster. It was difficult – _stubborn_ Jane Foster – but he eventually persuaded her it was too violent and would be unsavory to hear. She relented and he continued to read to her about fire giants or something trivial.

It was not a lie, he reasoned as he made a second cursory sweep through the books in case one cover had been missed. The story _was_ ghastly. Stories used to scare naughty children tended to veer that direction. He just did not tell her the real reason he glossed it over.

Having completed the sweep of the library, he stood in the entrance, scowling at the books that once enlightened, but now only mocked. He could not find a single book on the subject. He smiled then, a twisted, cynical smile and laughed harshly. He should not have been surprised. Why would there be a book on something so heinous? Surely, the All-Father would never keep a piece of literature about something so vulgar. Loki laughed louder, the noise edging close to a strangled sob. _He kept_ me, he thought bitterly. Odin kept him and for what? A miserable excuse for an alliance between monsters. Between _his_ true kin. He gritted his teeth, then relaxed them almost immediately. He despised how evenly his fangs fit together. They felt unnatural. Like him. _Unnatural_. _Abomination_. _Runt_.

"Why did you keep me?" he muttered into the library. Silence answered back. His teeth aligned as his jaw tightened, but he forced his jaw to relax. Tension built in the pit of his stomach, working its way through his veins like a pulse. He swallowed, trying to force back the ill feeling crawling up his throat, but it persisted. "Wouldn't it have been simpler?" His words were cold. His eyes became unfocused as he stared ahead into the empty library. "Wouldn't it have been simpler," he continued, "For all involved if I had died as I rightly should have." His voice held no question. For a brief interlude, he bathed in the silence. It held no comfort. His face contorted and he screamed, _"Why did you keep me?"_

The only sound was his voice yelling back at him in a maniacal hysteria. Loki heaved a sigh.

The Norms had a sick, twisted sense of humor, one that might as well reveled his. Instead of letting him die on that block of ice – as he rightly should have – Odin, his… biological father's enemy, took him in, only to raise him to hate the exact race he was born. If that in itself did not deem him a monstrosity, then his visage sealed his fate.

 _Jane does not think so_. He grimaced at the traitorous voice. Irritated by its presence, he was exasperated at how he could not dismiss the thought outright. She had said herself that she did not find this form frightening. She looked at him as if he were… not a giant, blue, red-eyed monster. Loki frowned, having realized he lifted his hand unconsciously and was staring at the back of it. Blue as expected. Deep ridges swirling intricately around the skin were not new, but he was startled at how detailed the design was. He only caught glimpses for he shoved the sight of them away before, but now he found himself engrossed in the etchings. He didn't understand what they meant. This only infuriated him more. With a barely contained growl, he clutched his fist, bringing his hand to his side, out of sight. Why she thought she could stand his appearance, he could not fathom – out of appeasement to keep him from lashing out at her; lying to trick him into thinking more could come of this foolish game he created. The tension shifted. He swallowed again and then, once the realization of it fully divulged in him, he wheezed out a ragged breath – what should have been a laugh, but came out more a dry, exhale of air. Jane could not lie to him. _He_ was the master of lies. If there was deceit to be given, it would be from _him_. He paused, unaware he was leaning against the doorframe for support from his laughing fit. Why did she say those things then? If she meant what she said, why?

Loki straightened, blinking out of his daze. Glancing around the library, he realized there was one other place to check for a book. He would look later. For now he would seek out Jane. He might be able to persuade her to do something with him.

He did not want to be alone with his thoughts.

/

* * *

/

Thor held still as instructed and only minutely divided his attention between who stood in front of him and what the others were speaking about.

"So, once Bruce and I are able to stabilize the portal, we are going to jump in and kick some reindeer butt," Tony was saying, going over plans he drew up. "Thor," he turned suddenly towards the Asgardian, but Thor made only the slightest turn in the billionaire's direction as to not throw off the person in front of him. "You are our inside source. No one knows the realm's layout like you. "

"No one knows the realm's layout," Bruce quipped.

Tony ignored him, looking at Thor expectantly. "What can we expect once stepping into his playing field?"

"Assuming all is well and he hasn't placed any of his tricks," Thor trailed off. He glanced at Tony, eyes narrowing in thought. "Where would your Bi-Frost drop us off?"

"That's just it. We don't know. That's where you come in. I was able to figure out a point in the system. Point 0. That's where your Bi-Frost rests. We configured that through Jane's data, however that's all we have."

"Isn't that enough to travel to Asgard?" Thor asked.

"You'd think," Bruce noted, "But, we don't know the effects the portal might have on the inside of a building. It isn't like yours; there's no telling the consequence."

Tony picked up, "We need to pinpoint an open field, far away from anything that could be potentially destroyed in the arrival. That's why we need to have a general layout of your realm. Think you can give enough details for that?"

"I've lived there my whole life. I couldn't describe anything in more detail if it were in front of my eyes."

"That's what I like hear."

"You know what my plan is?" Clint's voice cut through the air gruffly, capturing everyone's attention. He stood in front of Thor a good few meters away, bow in hand, and retrieved an arrow from his quiver, pulling it back taut as he continued, "When I see Loki," he focused on the apple sitting atop Thor's head. "I want to shoot him right between the eyes." Releasing the string, the arrow singed through the air, hitting the apple dab in the center and made a hard thud when it implanted into the target on the wall.

Thor grimaced. The archer had all rights to be furious with his brother, but that didn't mean he wanted harm to befall him if it was unnecessary. "Your arrows won't have an effect on him."

Clint, already readying his next shaft, barely heard him when his fingers slipped and it - pointed lower than the target - fired straight for the man's head. Thor instinctively brought up an arm and it collided into his hand, bouncing off effortlessly. Clint stared, mouth agape. Frowning, he took out another, beginning to inspect it.

"I need better arrows," he remarked casually.

"That isn't the only thing you need to improve."

Everyone looked up at the entrance as a redhead in a tank top, jacket and jeans walked into the room.

"Natasha," Steve, who was sitting on the couch, listening to the others, asked, "Where have you been; It's been two weeks."

"Other matters," she replied noncommittedly, taking the seat next to Steve. "I received your notice. When are we going to neutralize the maniac threat?"

"Soon enough," Tony replied, "As soon as we stabilize a large enough portal."

"Portal," Natasha echoed.

Steve turned to her. "I'll fill you in."

"This is different," she remarked.

"Usually, it's the other way around," Steve agreed.

"No, I mean, your shirt." Her eyebrow arched as she looked at his chest. There was a symbol affixed to it. "Is that a Sherlock reference?"

Steven smiled awkwardly. "Tony made me watch it."

"Not the television show. The movie, of course," supplied said man before she could ask the question. "The actor is a much better Sherlock."

/

* * *

/

Jane was about to make a trip to the library when a knock sounded at her door. She was not the least bit surprised when she saw it was Loki. She was curious to why he showed up out of the blue. They had breakfast little over two hours ago and usually between meals they left one another alone. She hoped he hadn't changed his mind and decided to try another trick on her. "Loki?" she asked as pleasantly as she could manage, "Was there something you needed?"

Jane didn't sound particularly pleased to see him, but that was to be expected. One nice evening did not a relationship make, Loki thought loathingly. "I thought it would be a fine day for a walk in the garden."

Jane blinked. "There's a garden?"

Loki felt his teeth clench, but forced them not to. She really hasn't seen much of the palace at all. A prick of guilt shot down his back at how neglectful he had been of showing her around. "Yes."

She frowned, which was never a good sign; however this one looked more calculating than scornful. "I would rather take another look at those books."

He held back a growl. He did not want to see that room right now. Pressing the roll of anger into the pit of his stomach, he mustered a forced smile and said, "There are plants in the garden never seen on Midgard. Now is an opportune chance to study them."

She paused, but then nodded, to his relief. "It would be amazing to see new plant life." She started to get that look in her eye, the kind that spoke of yearning adventure and new experiences. That fire that he was beginning to desire more and more to look upon. "And I'd be the first human ever to see it. This will be incredible!" She was grinning giddily. "Let's go."

She started out the room, already several feet ahead of him. He started to feel himself loosen and relax. She was an easy distraction. Now he only wondered when she would realize she had no idea where she was going.

/

* * *

/

Fandral inclined his head towards Sif as they watched the prince and the mortal walk about the gardens. "Well, who'd have thought?"

Sif frowned, but relented, "Well, who'd have known?"

"Well, who indeed?" He asked, glancing at her slyly.

Her frown deepened. "You guessed."

"That they'd come together on their own? Yes, I did." He smiled smugly.

"It's so peculiar," she huffed. "What happened?"

Fandral only grinned. "There's something there that wasn't there before."

Sif rolled her eyes. "Yes, something there that wasn't there before. And we'll never know what."

"It matters not whether we know. And they don't seem to mind either." He nodded towards Loki and Jane; the former smiled towards the latter as she admired a flower.

"We'll wait and see."

"A few days more and they will be in love."

Sif shook from side to side in what would have been a shake of her head. "There may be something there, but please remain reasonable. Jane cannot love him."

"Always so pessimistic with you. Even when it's in front of your eyes, you're blind to the beauty of-"

"Destruction?" she interrupted suddenly, turning towards him sharply. Her eyes were challenging.

Fandral, frowning, said quietly, "Of love. I was going to say love."

Sif turned back to the two idly strolling through the flowers. In a defiant tone, she said, "No love will ever come between those two. Only destruction."

"Jane will be fine," Fandral argued. "He won't hurt her."

"It's not entirely her destruction I'm worried about."

"Just look at them," he persisted, pointing in their direction. "Look how pleasantly they speak to one another."

"You can't be serious," Jane frowned. "There's no way that's how your atmosphere works here."

"I've lived here my whole life, I know what I'm talking about," Loki hissed.

Fandral grinned at them fondly. "I bet they're talking about the flower arrangements for their wedding."

Sif rolled her eyes. "More like flower arrangements for their funeral pyres."

"You really do suck the joy from everything they do, don't you?"

/

* * *

/

Jane sat on her bed, staring unseeingly at a flower whose stem she twisted between her fingers. The walk was a much needed distraction, she decided even if she didn't know it at the time. Even when Loki and her began arguing about the atmosphere (which functions made no sense), she had a good time. It seemed spending time with Loki was becoming less irritating than it used to be and more – _neutral_? – _normal_? _Casual_? _What_? It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't _not_ pleasant. It was almost enjoyable. But, that couldn't be right. Spending time, any at all, with Loki should not be anything, but miserable. Then why did she enjoy their talks at breakfast and dinner? Why was it becoming easier to speak to him? None of this could be good, but then again, she was only making an effort not to fight with him. That didn't mean they were becoming friends… or anything else for that matter. Besides, they were acquaintances. Acquaintances talked. And… picked flowers for each other. Occasionally.

She stared at the flower. It was similar to an earth rose, however it was bigger, yet lighter and the petals swooped in heavy arcs, almost like wings in flight. It was interesting to examine. It wasn't red; a shade of red, burgundy maybe with the tips fading out into a dark blue, almost black. Loki picked this one after she commented how she liked it. He told her she could keep it in her room to brighten it up a bit. She had to admit it was gloomy in her chamber, but that might have just been the situation looming over her head.

Loki wasn't the only thing on her mind, thankfully. She also wondered about back on Midgard. Was everyone okay? Were they making progress? Has Erik found out? She cringed just to think of it. His mind couldn't handle this; he was shaken up enough by what Loki did in New York. He didn't need this catastrophe on his plate. There wasn't anything he could do anyway, not with his mind so unraveled. Jane frowned, getting up to place the flower on her vanity. He must be worried sick for her. She hadn't been able to call in weeks. How long had it been? It couldn't have been too long, but time might work differently here. She couldn't be sure. She tried to count the days, but they kept blending and she gave up. She told herself it wasn't too long. If Erik called, Darcy would handle it. She'd tell him she was busy with her project and all was well. Then, reassured, he could continue his therapy. She sighed, plopping down on her bed. She had to know for sure.

/

* * *

/

Loki had escorted Jane to dinner and they sat as they decided they would from then on: him at the end and her to his right. Halfway through the meal, Jane thought the lull in conversation was a good time to bring it up.

"I have been thinking," she started.

 _This rarely ends well_ , Loki thought. "About what," he prompted.

"With all of Asgard's advancements, there must be some amazing technology," she hoped she sounded casual enough.

She always talked strange whenever she was hiding something, he noted. "This is true," he conceded, wondering where she was going with this.

"So, there might even be, I don't know, objects that can see other realms?" she flashed a grin, hoping it looked sincere.

Loki looked up from his plate at her. Her face looked strained beyond belief. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. "And what interest do you have in such an object?"

"I'm worried about Erik," she said honestly. Not like she needed to lie about that. "I have to see that he's okay."

Loki didn't like this at all. She missed those on Midgard. He didn't have time for her to be worrying over anyone, but him. He knew how she cared for Erik. It was obvious when he accessed the old man's mind. Loki couldn't brush this aside easily. "I'll have Heimdal check in on him."

"No," Jane said firmly. "I need to see him with my own eyes. There must be a way I can see him to make sure. I won't take the word of someone else."

He could see she was adamant in her stand. What could it hurt if he did it? If he did it fast enough, he could have it be done with and continue directing her attention towards him. "There is one thing I can try."

"What?"

"You will see," he smirked. "It will be a surprise."

/

* * *

/

3:27 AM. Darcy blinked blearily at the numbers on the microwave. This had to be a new record. She never got tanked this late. Or was it early? She laughed into her drink, downing another shot once the giggles subsided. The burn was tolerable, but it felt good. It numbed other sensations. And that was what she needed. To be numb. To not feel. She hiccupped, causing another roar of giggles. And that felt good. To laugh. Even if it was hallow and empty. She poured another shot and downed it before her mind could form a conscious thought.

A noise startled Darcy upright… or, at least, as upright as she could in her disorientated state. Leaning back against the counter helped. When she saw it was a familiar archer, she relaxed. "Hey," she giggled. Pointing her bottle at him, she continued, "Want a swig?"

For a moment he stared, but then he dropped down next to her, taking the bottle from her grasp. He sniffed it, made a face and then downed a gulp. Once he parted it from his lips, her fingers grabbed for it, but he shifted, placing himself between her and the bottle. She grimaced.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, words slurred. Her alighted mood spiraled fast.

Looking her dead in the eye, he said, "Drinking this early is a problem."

Her frown deepened. "Who are you? Erik?" She laughed as if it was funny.

Clint remembered Erik. He didn't think it was funny. "Is this how you spend your nights?"

She laughed again, shrugging. "Not always. Just a rough night."

"Rough night," he echoed. "I wouldn't know anything about those." He continued before she could open her mouth, "We all have rough days, sweetheart. It doesn't give you a free pass to abuse yourself."

One side of her lips fell, the other pinned up by a thread of forced joy, pulling at the seams of her mouth. "I'm not. I'm having the time of my life." She leaned forward, evidently reaching for the bottle again, but Clint caught her movement and placed it atop the counter behind him. She scowled, flopping back down.

"You keep downing these you'll end up in Vegas on a pole."

"That'd be better than here," she scoffed. "Just give me my booze and leave me alone. Why are you awake anyway?"

"Can't sleep," he answered curtly.

She squinted at him. Swinging her head and leaning forward a bit, she peered at the microwave. She turned back, giving him a look. "It's 3 AM."

"It's been 3 AM for years," he continued, "What you're doing, it's none of my business, but your mood has frosted the house over."

"Be more specific."

"You smell up the place with your rotten attitude."

Darcy blinked. "Be less specific."

"Listen, Lewis," he said firmly, "The Avengers are here. Tony and Bruce are working on a wormhole. We go through it, we kick Loki's butt. Done and done. Jane's home. Midgard's safe."

She became quiet for a moment. Then she smiled, shrugging slightly. "I know that. I know you guys got this. You're the Avengers for god's sake. But, she's still there…" she frowned again as she finished, "With _him_."

"Yeah, and what good does it do anyone by moping around? You can't stop what's happening," He took in a small breath, and continued, "but you don't have to lie down and take it."

Darcy waited, eyes less cloudy fixed on him.

"If you want to help Jane, you'd stop poisoning your body with that rat urine," Darcy made a face. "And show some fight for her. Do something. Because right now you're as useful to her as the wormholes Tony keeps blowing up."

Darcy blew a soft chuckle, nodding. "You're right." She started nodding more vigorously. "You're right. You're absolutely right! I can't lie down anymore!"

Clint stood up, smirking. "No."

She threw her hands up. "I got to get up and do something!"

He grinned, punching the air. "That's right."

"I'm going to get up off the floor and take life by the shirt collar and punch it in the face!"

"That's the spirit!"

"But, there's still one thing I need you to do!"

"What?"

She thrust her hand towards his general direction, holding it out. "Help me up, I can't feel my legs and the room's spinning."


	20. Kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words fall through me  
> And always fool me  
> And I can't react
> 
> And games that never amount  
> To more than they're meant  
> Will play themselves out
> 
> Take this sinking boat and point it home  
> We've still got time  
> Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice  
> You'll make it now
> 
> Falling slowly, eyes that know me  
> And I can't go back
> 
> Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard

_Fandral waited outside the door, for once unable to find the words he could say to make this better. When disasters struck, he could always turn it around with an easy smile, but now no amount of charm could undo the damage._

_He shifted when the door opened. Loki stood in the doorway, but it was to be expected as it was his room. They stared at each other. There was a chest, small and crude, in Loki's hands. He shoved it towards Fandral. "There," he said, eyes cold as they have been for a while now. "What yours is returned to you."_

_Fandral opened his mouth in an attempt to say something, but no words came out. He watched as Loki went back inside and closed the door._

_"_ _Fandral!"_

_He blinked. He hadn't moved._

_"_ _Fandral!"_

_It wasn't until someone clasped his shoulder that he looked up. The hand belonged to a muscly blond man. Fandral mustered a small smile and greeted, "Thor, how are you?"_

_"_ _Well," he replied, "And you?" His eyes fell upon the chest and then went back to Fandral's face, a smile stretching his lips. "And what is this?"_

_"_ _This?" Fandral frowned, trying to think of something, but only ended up with, "It's nothing. Just, some old trinket." He managed a smile, how, he had no idea._

_"_ _Ah," Thor hummed "Were you going to place it in your room? The feast is about to begin."_

_He nodded, his tongue too heavy to form words._

_"_ _Is Loki ready?"_

_Fandral turned towards the door. Cold. Dark. Like how he felt in this moment. Turning back to Thor, he stuttered, "Uh, I think-"_

_"_ _I am here."_

_Fandral whipped his head back, staring as Loki emerged from the door. Loki was smiling, dressed in his usual greens, hair combed, nothing out of place. He wore the mask so exceptionally. Except for his eyes. They were cold. There was a frost about them. Loki tilted his head, making eye contact with him for a moment and it was as if ice pierced his heart. Fandral swallowed hard, pushing back with all his might the chill that shook his body. Had Loki heard what he said about the chest?_

_Before Fandral had to endure the stare any longer, Loki turned from him and smiled at Thor. With practiced warmth. Fandral recognized the contempt beneath the smile; he had for a while now. He always assumed it was brother rivalry and he still believed so. Loki loved Thor, he knew this. It was nothing but brother rivalry. That was what he told himself that moment and every moment after for decades…_

Fandral awoke, a feeling of dread lingering over him. It was dark all around him. He panicked until his eyes adjusted and he realized he was in his bed in his room. In the palace. The one Thor and Loki insisted on letting him have with how frequent he, the Warrior three and Sif came to visit. They all had a room for themselves and the rooms felt like a second home. Except for now. Fandral grimaced. Down the hall, left corridor, then right, he knew Loki lay slumbering in his own room. Where just outside his door that dream took place. Fandral clutched his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. Don't think about it, he told himself. Any other time. Any other time at all – why did he have to think about _that one_?

First, the sudden reemergence of how he and Loki met in their adolescence and now a dream that step for step painted a scene in his life from a hundred or so years ago. Why did his mind plague him? He hated that time. He hated it then and he loathed it now. He should have said something.

Morning light drifted through the window, speckling his room in different shades of yellow. He hefted himself up. It was better to get the day started than wallow in his bed. The past was the past. Besides, now he had the chance to set things right. He grinned. He just had to get Loki and Jane to see they were perfect for each other. All would be well then.

Shuffling to the edge of the bed, he prepped for what used to be an easy step and was now a leap to the ground. Taking a deep breath, he threw himself forward, hitting the floor with a thump and skidded to a stop a foot away. He jumped with triumph, the gloom from his dream already leaving him as he went to tackle the new day. Who knew? Maybe this would be the day for sure.

/

* * *

/

Darcy heard the ring too late. By the time she ran to pick up the phone, somebody already beat her to it. She stared as the archer answered, "Dr. Selvig. It's Barton." He paused. Darcy froze in horror. After a beat, he smiled and said, "Fine. All is well here." He paused again. "S.H.I.E.L.D. sent me. Jane needed Intel. I am only the messenger." He paused and then laughed. "Yeah, they're turning me into a pencil pusher." He looked at Darcy pointedly as he said, "Jane's intern is here if you'd like to speak with her." There was a moment and then he handed it to her.

She snatched it fast, mouthing the words, 'What did you do?' and then immediately put it near her ear and said with as much cheer as she could, "Hey, Erik!"

_"_ _Darcy, how are you?"_

She nodded, saying, "Good. Good. Everything's great. How's your, um, vacation?" That was what Jane told her to call them.

 _"_ _Same as always. Beaches. Nice hotel. A lunatic with a clipboard,"_ he spat the last with disdain.

"Those hacks don't know what they're talking about," she told him smoothly.

 _"_ _My thoughts exactly,"_ he sounded pleased, which was a good sign until he continued, _"I called to speak with Jane. Where is she?"_

"You can't right now."

_"_ _Why not?"_

Darcy could hear the drop of disappointment in his voice and hurried to find some excuse, when he began again.

 _"_ _Ah, I get it. Still lost in her work?"_ He hummed or something; Darcy couldn't make out his voice too well. _"Tell her to call me when she gets the chance. And make sure she's eating. And get her out once in a while. You know how she is…"_

His voice was becoming distant again, but this wasn't unusual. "I will, Erik. I'll get her out to the clubs. We'll have a good time."

_"_ _Or maybe someone else can check up on her."_

"Hey! I am great at my job," she protested.

He paused. There was tropical music in the background now. _"Darcy, I have to go. Another one of the lunatic's 'events' is starting and I have to find a place to hide. Remember to tell Jane to call me. Bye."_

She said a quick, 'Bye' and hung up. Hand still clutching the wireless, she stared at Clint, who returned her stare politely, and she muttered, "He must never find out."

"He will eventually."

She couldn't tell if that was his resting face or if he always looked ready to kill someone. "Better later than now. He's on vacation. Let him live a little."

What was the worst that could happen?

Oh, wait. She shouldn't have thought that. Darn it! She just jinxed them. Maybe it worked differently because she didn't say it out loud. Hopefully.

/

* * *

/

"This flower," Jane began as she felt the petals between her fingers, "Is there any special meaning?"

Loki and she were seated out in the garden once more, this time with blanket beneath them and basket packed with Asgardian delicacies between them. Jane sat nearer to the bush that bloomed with the flower Loki had picked for her yesterday and, though it slipped her mind when he handed it to her, she couldn't stop wondering if in Asgard flowers held significant meaning like flowers on Earth.

He shifted his eyes to look at her sideways, but otherwise did not attempt to move towards her as he sat, covered from head to toe in a black cloak that made it difficult for Jane to tell how he was sitting. She wondered why he wore that.

Loki didn't want to admit it, but he wasn't sure what that flower symbolized. He picked it for her yesterday because she had admired it and he thought she'd like it better in her room to look upon longer, though why he cared if she did or not, he couldn't fathom. The flower, however, did remind him of another one he had learned about from his youth and perhaps they held similar meanings. "I am not sure about this one in particular," he prefaced. "But, this color portrays strength and perseverance," he explained, recalling a servant describing the same to him about a flower many years ago. "In legends, warriors dye their armor this color for good fortune in battle." What else would it mean? Now he wished he could recall those lessons he had with M- with _Frigga_ in the garden.

This wasn't so bad, Jane told herself. Just because it wasn't, didn't mean anything. They were acquaintances, having a picnic and there was no curse breaking business going on here. Maybe Loki realized she couldn't and finally gave up. That eased her a bit. It wasn't that she was opposed to Loki's company – she'd admit to herself that she even enjoyed it. However, there were layers to Loki, thousands it seemed, and she had to keep peeling back one after the other, only to find more underneath and she wasn't sure which was real. It was frustrating. For some unexplainable reason though, she wanted to find out the real one.

"Strength," she echoed, rubbing the petals between her fingers one more time before letting it go. "On Ea - um, Midgard," she sneaked a glance at him to see if he found the way she messed up Asgardian words amusing, but instead his head was turned towards her and he was giving her his full attention. "On Midgard," she continued, slightly uncomfortable with how his eyes didn't leave hers, "We have flowers that look like these, but they're smaller. We call them, 'roses'. In fact, they look a lot like the one in that tower. Um," she muttered awkwardly as she explained, "They're for romantic gestures though. Most of the time." Quickly, she added, "But I'm sure that's not what they mean here."

 _That would be just horrible, wouldn't it_ , he thought bitterly. Fandral's words stubbornly echoed in the back of his head. This was only the start. He would get her to come to him. He only needed time and circumstance. "No, that is not what they mean. Flowers used to show romantic interest are…" He frowned. Something felt off.

"Are what?" Jane asked, having been admiring the garden when she noticed the drop in Loki's voice, and turned to him. His red eyes were staring at her again. They were different now. A glossy look was in them. This couldn't be normal. Did his mind suddenly wander? She prompted, "What were you saying, Loki?"

"I was saying," he drew out the words slowly as if in a trance. "If I were to give you a flower to show my interest in you-"

"In _me_?"

"It'd be a stargazer," he continued, Jane just noticing he was inching towards her. He leaned closer, but didn't brush against her as he looked into her eyes. "Blue," he spoke lowly, his eyes half-lidded. "To bring out your eyes."

Jane felt his breath on her lips and the warmth was the deciding factor in how weird this was. "What are you doing?" she demanded, already leaning back on her palms to escape his close proximity. _Who is this?_

 _Who am I?_ Loki internally panicked, but projected a calm countenance as he snapped back and pulled away, sitting down. She was looking at him with raised eyebrow and face in barely suppressed shock as if to ask, 'You said no more funny business - what was that?' He had no idea. He was just looking at her and it wasn't as if he hadn't seen her before, however, as he was looking something inside of him sparked and for a brief moment he could only see her and her eyes and her hair caught in the light like strands of gold _and what was he thinking?_ He clenched his teeth to stop his frown from deepening. Jane Foster, a mortal no less, could not be affecting him this way. She was a means to an end. A key to breaking the curse. She was pretty, he'd admit, but that did not warrant these sudden lapses of general control over his being. Where were these thoughts coming from? He noted that she was still staring at him with those eyes… that he just told her were best accentuated by a blue stargazer.

He breathed deeply through his nose, clearing his head, and as evenly as possible he stated, "The Queen once made a statement on how blue flowers best brightened dark eyes," She looked perplexed, but he made no rush to hasten his delivery. That was the thing about lying – there couldn't be hesitation, but rushing helped no one. Besides, this wasn't exactly a lie – Frigga had once, a long, long, _long_ time ago lectured him on flowers and she made mention of which colors went lovelier with which eyes. He pressed the memory back – what once filled him with warmth, now only served as a bitter reminder of what was lost. "Yours would look best with a stargazer," he said smoothly, "For you both share an affinity of looking into the sky." She relaxed slightly, which must have been a good sign.

Jane frowned, having noticed his strange choice of words. He had acted like he was about to kiss her, then he tried to brush it off as if it was casual, and just now he said something weird. "Do you always refer to your mother as 'the queen'?" She couldn't imagine the clock she had met – _oh god, that really happened_ – telling her son - _meaning consequently Loki_ ' _s mother was a clock at the moment_ \- to refer to her as anything, but 'mother' or 'mom'.

"She's not my mother," Loki responded automatically out of habit rather than explaining. By the sudden widening of her eyes, however, he realized something was amiss. "Thor hasn't informed you of my true parentage?"

"He never said you were adopted."

"Adopted is a strong word," he muttered under his breath.

"What does that mean?" she asked, frowning. "Either you were or you weren't."

Loki mulled around in his head whether or not it'd be a good idea to tell her the exact circumstances of his birth or if there were things better kept unsaid. She still believed this skin of his was only a façade of the curse; what was so wrong with letting her believe so a little longer? "Adopted isn't quite right since Odin found me."

"Found you?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

He furrowed his brow. "How should I know? No, wait, yes, I remember exactly where my infant self was left to die."

"You were abandoned?"

Her question surprised him. Had he said that? He had. He hadn't meant to say that. She didn't need to know the details. Quieter, he went on, "Yes, abandoned. Odin found me and took me in. But, he's not my father." Jane didn't look at all satisfied with this answer and was opening her mouth to ask more. He quickened to say, "Hadn't you asked me yesterday about seeing your friends?"

She paused. The sudden change in subject wasn't exactly unexpected. It seemed Loki was uncomfortable talking about his origins. She wondered if because he was adopted, that was why Loki loathed Thor so much. But, that couldn't be right. It wasn't Thor's fault after all. For now, she wouldn't push it. Besides, any news on seeing Erik was important. "Yes?"

"Let's say, I was able to create something for you."

Her eyes widened as a smile unconsciously lifted her lips. "What did you make?"

Loki relished the smile as his own mouth curved into a smirk. With a quick movement, he reached into his cloak where he hid his creation and soon retrieved it, presenting her a blue handle mirror. Her smile fell away as her face became consumed with a mix of curiosity and doubt. He let her eyes take it in, knowing she wasn't convinced this piece of glass could do anything useful.

She looked at him at last. "I don't understand," she told him plainly. "How will this let me see Erik?"

Loki leaned unperceivably towards Jane, holding the mirror near her, telling her to wrap her hand around the handle. She clasped it near the top and he was careful to keep his hand lower than hers, never brushing against her in the least. "Now say a name," he commanded her softly, his eyes drifting over her face.

She stared at the glass, skepticism written across her furrowed brow. She narrowed her eyes, leaning forward slightly to better scrutinize the mirror. A moment past and Loki urged her on. "Erik," she whispered more to herself than aloud.

The mirror's surface, like a lake, remained serene and tempered. Then, as if a storm rolled in over the water, the surface darkened, swirling into a gray oblivion. And as fast as it began, it stopped; the gray parted to reveal a quiet scene. Jane stared, too stunned to move closer and yet paralyzed to move away as if the scene held a spell over her. Erik, book in hand, was seated in an armchair. His hand, propped up by his elbow against his side, held his book while the other, propped by his elbow against an armrest, held his head which craned downward as his eyes flitted over the pages lazily.

After several breathless moments, and a few attempts of opening her mouth, but no sound coming out, Jane finally managed an awed, "How?" Whipping her head towards Loki, she asked urgently, "How did you do this? This is, this is-"

"Incredible," Loki supplied, his smirk growing into a grin at her genuine eagerness over his creation. "Marvelous. Fantastic."

"Exactly," she cried, smiling at the Erik in the mirror, absorbing his detail, how well his complexion had gotten, just how much Erik was Erik. He wasn't the sickening pale he was when she last saw him days before his departure. That was when Darcy had to wake her from an exhaustion induced sleep that had lasted well into the afternoon. She was so surprised to hear he was off to his 'vacation' so soon. She called them 'vacations', but they both knew they were therapy sessions. He needed them after… Jane felt her lips fall into a frown. A chill shot down her back like liquid fire. Being reminded of how Erik became a bundled mess of nerves and knowing she sat so close to the one who caused it soured the elation she felt at seeing her old friend. She swallowed back the feeling and instead focused on the abilities the mirror processed. "How does it work?" Plastering a smile on her face, she shifted her hand down to get a better grip.

Loki noticed her frown and wondered what could have caused it. He glanced at the glass, but saw only the old man reading. There didn't seem cause for worry. Unless seeing the old man reminded her of _that_. He bit back a frustrated growl. He did _not_ want to go back down that road, which was why he was relieved to hear her ask questions about the mirror even if her smile was slightly forced. Any topic was better than that one. Then he sensed her hand near his, swiftly moving his further down. He scolded himself for the impulse, but even though having touched her before and having nothing happen, it still lurked in his mind the eerie sensation that if his skin brushed hers in the least it would cause hers to blacken from severe frost bite. He was about to answer her question when she spoke again.

"Why did you do that?"

His eyes turned towards her. She was still staring at Erik. Wait, no. Her eyes… were on his hand clasping the handle. "Do what?" he asked, confused.

"Move your hand from mine," she stated, brow furrowing deeper as she lifted her eyes to his. "I've noticed that whenever I move mine, you move yours the same distance away. Why?"

"Would you rather I crowd you?" he deflected.

"Not really," she responded slowly, raising a brow. "It's just… you've touched my hands before; there was that time by the bridge for instance. But, now you're taking extra measure not to touch them. Not, not that I _want_ you to, but it's not even just this time. It's like you're always careful not to touch me and I was wondering…" She was glancing around with her thought process, but now she had her full attention on his eyes again. "It's not because of your appearance, is it?"

And like that, she pierced him through the soul with the innocence and accuracy of her question. But, before he could deny this, she continued, oblivious to the inner turmoil her words had on him.

"Because it's not a big deal. I mean-" Her free hand moved in the corner of his eye and his eyes immediately flickered to it, watching as she moved it from its resting position on the blanket. It hovered near her side a moment before rising further in a diagonal direction. He held still with the realization that she was moving with the intention of touching his shoulder. Her hand hesitated, floating in the air just before his cloak and her eyes fled from his face to her hand in silent consideration while Loki only focused his attention on her face as it took all his concentration on her to even hear a word she said. After only a moment longer, Loki felt her hand press against his shoulder through the fabric of his cloak and the feeling of warmth shot through him like a strike of lightning. Her hand felt foreign against him. It didn't belong there. He didn't make a move to stop the touch. "I mean," she continued. "You've touched my hand before. It doesn't bother me. Okay, yeah," she shrugged, hand still clasping his shoulder loosely. "When I first saw your eyes, I'll admit it was unnerving. But, now," she gave a small smile. "It's okay. I'm not uncomfortable. You can touch me." His eyebrows shot up at her choice of words. Her face immediately screwed up and she drew back her hand. A breath of silence passed. "Wait," she laughed nervously. "Wait, that sounded weird. I didn't mean-"

Fandral suddenly popped out of the bush next to them, cheering cheekily, "The lady gives her consent, but respect her boundaries!" Then he disappeared back into the bush.

Jane, cheeks tinting pink, stared warily at where the candlestick had been. How could a piece of furniture make something sound so lewd? _How were these really her thoughts?_ She frowned grimly at the bushes, but there was no trace of the candlestick and her glare was wasted. She didn't bother looking at Loki, knowing eye contact now would be tense with awkwardness and instead glued her eyes to the mirror, hoping this would pass without blunder.

Loki caught the tint in her cheeks. The color made her face lovelier, and, with a smirk – _because really, how could he pass it up_ – he slid his hand further up the handle, careful not to touch hers, but lingered close enough that the sensation of _almost touching_ hovered between them and, leaning into her, he whispered in her ear, "With your permission, I will touch you as much as you please."

Her cheeks darkened out of embarrassment _and she swore to all things righteous not because his breath made her feel uncomfortably weird in a not unpleasant way_. Moving her hand, she placed it far below his near the tip of the handle and hissed through clenched teeth, " _Don't._ " She glanced at him from the side, but refused to move her head towards him. That widening smirk of his could not be a good sign.

"I always preferred being on top."

And she was right. "You're as bad as Fandral," she said angrily, but found that upon saying it she almost smiled because of the absurdity of the statement. No one was a flirt like Fandral. "And anyway, we agreed on no more 'gestures'," she said firmly, shooting a sharp glare in his direction, only to be met by his playful smirk.

"I believe we agreed to no more ' _big_ gestures'." His brow arched. "Unless talking innocently about mirrors and hand positions is considered a 'big gesture'."

Her lips cracked ever slightly into a smile as an involuntary chuckle passed her mouth in a breath. "I doubt there's anything innocent about you."

"How can you speak so cruelly?" he feigned indignant, frowning ever slightly. "I am speaking of innocent subjects and you are twisting my words into obscene atrocities. I am hurt."

The smile on her face was wider now, but she was eyeing the prince skeptically. "I hardly believe there was any innocent intent behind your words."

"Which ones?" he asked and Jane noticed with slight caution that his face seem to darken in a way that, though almost threatening, wasn't intending any actual harm. "How I told you I would touch you until you were satisfied or how I revel being above you?"

They stared, unflinchingly into each other's eyes. Jane's eyes were angered with a touch of indignant surprise and his were unreadable.

Fandral, peeking around the tree he hid behind, grinned foolishly at the display. Turning to Sif beside him, he cooed, "The passionate tension between the lovers is too strong for them to resist."

"He's making her mad."

" _With passion_ ," Fandral declared dramatically.

"Quiet down," Sif scolded, nudging him in the side with her porcelain body. "They'll hear you. We shouldn't be here. Why must you drag me into your spying endeavors?"

"It is not _spying_ ," Fandral informed her with an impatient look. "It is research."

"For what?"

"Lifting the curse."

Sif rolled her eyes. "The only lifting here is Jane _lifting_ herself off the ground and walking away. Women don't like this."

"You were the one all for the 'forward approach'. You were _so happy_ when he told her rule three."

"Nothing about this situation makes me happy. I was only approving of his tactic. What he's doing now isn't helping at all."

"Just watch. Romance is in the near future."

Jane held Loki's stare.

"They're going to kiss," Fandral said.

Loki didn't move, only continued to challenge her with his eyes.

"If they don't, I don't even know."

Loki's eyes drifted lazily down where Jane's mouth curved and he found he couldn't look away.

"He's into it."

Jane followed his gaze, realizing where he was staring.

"She's going to lean in any second now."

Jane whipped her head towards the mirror and exclaimed suddenly, "Tony!"

The mirror darkened as a sudden cry of anguish cut through the air from somewhere behind the couple.

Jane didn't bother looking. She kept her head locked in front of her, focus dead on the mirror. That didn't happen, she told herself. That definitely didn't happen because it couldn't happen, not ever because the thought was so absurd, she almost couldn't repeat it. She didn't feel a strange, unwanted, irrational, definitely-probably-maybe-a-hallucination-of-some-sort… _pang of desire for Loki._ That didn't happen and she wasn't shaky and her ear wasn't still tingling from where his breath was because Loki was Thor's brother and anything other than acquaintanceship developing between her and Thor's brother was what Darcy would call "trampy". She wasn't a tramp. She was still technically with Thor… maybe? No, wait, yes. No question. _You have Thor_ , she reminded herself. _And any feeling towards his brother that wasn't strictly friendly was weird._ And it was. Why did she feel compelled to touch his shoulder? She should have left things as they were – no touching and awkward free. Now she opened up a completely new and dangerous battlefield. No, wait, this was fine. There was nothing wrong with familiarity between friends. And that was what they were, kind of. There just had to be boundaries. And she would set them… as soon as things weren't this awkward.

Loki blinked at the mortal. He didn't know what came over him, but for a moment he had considered the impossible… and it scared him to realize the implications. While staring at her face set in a fiery glare, and her lips parted in incredulous anger, he found himself wanting something he shouldn't have even been thinking about. A kiss. For Jane Foster. He at once cursed and thanked her sudden movement that broke their contact. If he held her gaze any longer, he'd hate to think of the consequences. No one should have to endure a kiss from such a monster. He shouldn't even being entertaining the idea. Love was one thing, but actually having any physical relationship with a frost giant was too barbaric a punishment for anyone to have to endure. Even mortal, Jane Foster. She must have sensed his strange behavior – she used the mirror as a distraction. He frowned and looked at her, but his frown soon faded as he saw her face. The discomfort was gone and instead it was again filled with that awe from when she first saw the mirror, if only slightly dimmed. It was strange, but the sight caused warmth inside his chest. Either that or he was dying. With his luck, it was probably both.

Tony was in her kitchen, Jane noted, leaning against her counter as Bruce sat at the table, bowl full of cereal in front of him. Tony was going on some sort of rant; he was animated, his hands flying here and there in gestures; Bruce's animation was limited to a nod every once in a while and lifting his spoon to his mouth. If she focused enough she could hear them. Tony was talking about… about… _ugh_ , that stupid bird movie again! In spite of herself, she chuckled. She couldn't believe it. She could see them. They were fine. Nothing looked out of place. She could only guess that Bruce and Tony were at her place because they were working on that portal, but then this was good. If they could find a way here… She wasn't too sure, but that wasn't important at the moment. For the first time in weeks, she felt a connection to Earth and she didn't want to let it go for anything.

"This is amazing," she finally said in a hushed whisper, not taking her eyes off the mirror's surface. Shaking her head, she turned to Loki and demanded, "You have to tell me how you did this. This is what your science is like, right? How did you do it?"

He waved his hand mysteriously and with a smirk said, " _Magic_."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"How," Jane prompted, staring at him attentively. "How does it _work_?"

"What do you mean? It just does."

"Try to explain it to me. The step progress."

Loki almost opened his mouth to respond, but stopped. He wasn't sure. No one had ever questioned it before. It was something that came natural to him and it was frustrating to realize he wasn't sure how it 'worked'. It just did. It always had. Regardless, he did his best to put what he did into words. "There's this flow of energy inside me. And whenever I need it, let's say, to create an enchanted mirror," Jane glanced at the said object. "I reach inside and I pull at tendrils of that energy, that-"

"Magic," Jane supplied eagerly. She was leaning towards him unconsciously, absorbed in his words.

Loki smirked. _She was on the edge of her seat_ – a phrase he heard while on Midgard and it perfectly reflected Jane now. Curiosity gleamed in her eyes, her lips were parted slightly as she waited in anticipation of what _he_ was about to tell her. And if he dare say so he would almost say – _curse the Norms if this ever got out that he would even think_ – Jane Foster looked cute. "Yes," he confirmed, waving his hand as before, " _Magic_."

"How?" she asked again.

"I don't know how," he admitted testily, irate he would have to say such words in his life. "It is something that has always been there and never needed an explanation. Like breathing."

"But, breathing can be explained. It's because of the respiratory system-"

"I know that," he lied – he wasn't familiar with the term she used, but he assumed it was the equivalent to what Asgardians used to refer to lungs. "Sometimes there aren't cut and dry explanations and things are as they are. Magic is magic."

"Magic is just science we don't understand yet," she countered. "Arthur C. Clarke."

"I have a feeling Th-" Loki stopped, his being suddenly shocked by an icy chill gripping his senses. He had almost said _his_ name. He had almost said, _I have a feeling_ Thor _told you something about magic and science being the same._ And he was going to tell her how it was true in a sense, but realizing he was about to say that opened up a thousand paths of implications at once inside his head. At the foremost, he would have agreed with his once-brother, which was devastating enough, but the true blow was after this when he realized… this was all meaningless. These moments in the garden were meaningless. Talking to her was meaningless. Seeing her, dining with her, being with her, putting any effort into all that he had done up until this point – absolutely meaningless.

"What?" Jane asked when he fell silent, but her voice was just a buzz to the torrent of thought in his head.

How did he let things get so far out of hand? How did he deceive himself so thoroughly? A kiss. For Jane Foster. _Thor's mortal._ How far he had fallen to ever believe he stood a chance against the golden prince. No matter how much progress he made with Jane, none of it mattered. Thor had stolen her from him. He almost laughed then. Thor never stole her from _him_. She was already Thor's and therefore, never was his to lose.

He noticed then that his hand was too close to hers. He dropped it from the handle as if its touch burned him.

"Loki?" Jane watched as his eyes became distant. She couldn't help it; he looked so lost right now; it was disconcerting. She tentatively reached out and nudged him. "What were you saying?"

Loki stiffened. Her hand was on his shoulder. His eyes slowly rolled to hers and what he found made the back of his throat burn with bile. Concern and worry marred her face. The realization caused his body to crawl with revulsion. He didn't need her pity. Shifting roughly away from her touch, he spat, "What does a mortal like you think you can accomplish by learning about magic?"

Jane recoiled from his rebuke, staring wide-eyed.

Loki felt immensely more comfortable once she moved from him.

"Where did that come from?" she asked, brow furrowed, as she lowered the mirror next to her, grip on the handle tightening. "I thought we were over that 'mortal' business. You're not better just because-"

"But, I am," he cut her off suddenly, sitting straighter to use his full height, towering over her. "I'm stronger than you, faster than you, smarter than you. Before you would be aware of what was happening, I could crush your windpipe with the snap of my fingers." He leaned towards her, bringing his face closer to hers, forcing her to back up. There was something in her eyes he hadn't seen since she first saw him. And it caused a mix of emotions in him, but he ignored them, pouring all his energy into the part of him that raged with indignant anger.

The red of his eyes began taking up her vision and she became acutely aware just whom she sat next to. The red in his eyes and the blue of his skin enhanced his angular features, making him look more ferocious than any of the pictures she had seen of him on Earth. And that thought brought her back to her senses if only enough for her to gain the courage to speak again. "That doesn't give you the right to hurt people," she bit out, narrowing her eyes at him. She noticed she was still moving back. She halted her movement defiantly. This wasn't working. She knew this wasn't working. Egging him on and provoking him only made things worst. And yet, she couldn't stop herself. "What you did in New York-"

" _Don't bring that up,_ " he roared, wanting nothing more than for her to stop talking. "Don't speak of things you can't begin to comprehend, _Jane Foster_. You think I caused destruction to New York – you don't know the beginning of true destruction. You are nothing but a speck beneath my heel, not fit for my acknowledgement." He could see the fire diminishing in her eyes, but she was determined to speak, so he rushed to not let her get a word in. "Your life could be ended with a flick of my wrist. And no one would know. A mortal, small and insignificant, alone in Asgard means nothing and-"

Jane stood and walked briskly towards the entrance, picking up her feet. When she breached the threshold, safely hidden from where he could see her, she broke into a run and didn't stop until she threw open her door and slammed it shut behind her, falling against it. She leaned there, breathless. The gulps of air were not satiating her lungs in the least and the beat of her heart pounded against her chest as if it was trying to escape her ribcage. She closed her eyes once she got her breathing under control, taking one more deep breath before sliding down her door onto the floor, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She could feel herself trembling, but she was too shaken to be bothered with that.

For the first time since they've spoken and had meals and were somewhat affable, Loki scared her. And it was frightening to realize it was not because he was the monster who destroyed New York, but because he was Loki, an Asgardian under a curse, who lashed out at her with a hardened glint in his eyes that suggested he _could kill her if he wanted – he just didn't right now_. The thought sunk in her mind like lead, sitting heavily at the base of her skull. Her lip quivered and she bit it to make it stop. She wasn't thinking right. She was scared and it skewed her thoughts. She had to come at this logically. Shaking her head, she was finally able to better grasp her senses.

What really happened? Loki wanted to harm her. No. That was not right. Loki has never made a move or suggested in any way that he has ever intended to hurt her. In fact, he has done the opposite, but that was in light of the curse. He wouldn't hurt her. She cinched her eyebrows, a new calm falling over her. He wouldn't hurt her. Somehow she knew this. He wouldn't. She didn't know why, but she felt confident that his intentions were not deadly. Then why did he suddenly turn on her? Moments before he was talking to her normally – or as normal as talking to Loki gets – and was even making flirtatious advances, which she brushed off because things were getting awkward. But, then why the sudden anger? It couldn't have been because of magic or that absurd 'Asgardian superiority' he pulled on her. There had to have been something else. They were doing so well, she thought, but maybe that was it. Her eyes widened. That was it. Could it be Loki was pushing her away? She frowned. But, why would he after all those attempts he made at obtaining her affection? Unless…

Jane sighed. She didn't know what was going on in his head and it wasn't her job to discern it. If he wanted to be mad, then fine. He could be mad. Let him wear himself out. She didn't care. And why should she? He was the one pushing her away. If that was what he wanted, then she would gladly welcome it. It didn't matter to her in the least.

Or that was what she told herself…

/

* * *

/

"He made her mad," Sif stated simply, watching the brunette run off with mirror clutched in hand.

"He's playing hard to get," Fandral suggested.

Sif shook her body in dismay at the candlestick. "When are you going to realize those two are going to burn each other out? They're like water and oil."

"Or," Fandral began with the same tone a man who has stumbled upon a discovery would be inclined to use when departing the news to a comrade, "Fire and water."

"How is that any better?"

"Fire and water create steam." He smirked suggestively at Sif. "One could say it will become 'steamy' between them."

Sif glared at him. "I'm leaving."

He shuffled after her, chuckling. "Have a sense of humor! They'll work it out."

Sif turned on him, frowning. "Alright, fine. Since you seem to always have the answers to their problems, let's say you're right about this and they do work it out, _how_ will they work it out? What can possibly amend this?"

Fandral paused, pondering it. Then he spoke, "Perhaps with sweets-"

"What?"

"Listen. Sweets make everything better. I know couples well into their golden years whom remedied all their problems with dessert. If we can convince one of them to make something-"

"That will never work," Sif hissed, turning from him. "Your ideas are foolish."

"But you're forgetting something," he taunted.

She glared at him. " _Don't_."

"I know-"

" _I know that if you finish that sentence, I will_ end _you._ "

Fandral held his mouth shut, puffing out his cheeks, his eyes wide. In a burst of air, he whispered, " _Love_." And before she could blink, he was half way to the entrance, booking it.

/

* * *

/

Jane sat on her bed, staring dejectedly at the book in her lap. It was the only Earth literature in the library, ergo the only book that was a little recognizable. She had only taken it to remind her of home. The title mocked her silently. It was too fitting a name to be coincidence, but she knew there wasn't a possibility for someone hundreds or thousands of years ago to have plucked this particular one from Earth and place it in the library just for it to be the bane of her existence at this moment. _Historia Calamitatum_ , or in English, They Story of my Misfortunates. It was cold irony and what an ironic book it was for the occasion. She had read an English translation in high school and recalled looking up the original name. She still couldn't believe she was holding a _real_ original copy and if under other circumstances, she would be nerding out. Now the sight of it only served as a reflection of how she felt.

Loki had shown her this while they were in the library. She was excited when he said there was one Midgardian piece, but was immediately taken aback by the Latin text, rendering it unreadable to her. Nonetheless, it was almost a comfort. A tie to home in a way. It was unreadable, but it was still more familiar than any of the letters in the Asgardian books… even if it wasn't by much. When she had asked if she could hold on to it, Loki told her he books usually stayed in here, but he would make an exception for the occasion. It was a kind gesture on Loki's part, she had thought at the time.

Frowning, she placed the book on the bed behind her, out of sight. She shouldn't be thinking so much about him, but he seemed rooted in her thoughts. No matter what, it always came back around to Loki. And they shouldn't. It wasn't like it mattered if he was mad or why. Anything could have set him off. A shift in the weather. A bug buzzing. A gust of wind.

She looked over her shoulder. Behind her, sitting atop the vanity was the mirror. Standing, she crossed the room and picked it up by the handle, cradling it gently. She ignored any thoughts of whose warmth, hers or Loki's, was still on it and instead concentrated on the glass. "Thor," she said firmly, confidence in her words giving her the strength not to think of someone else.

The mirror revealed a scene, once again in her kitchen. This time only Bruce and Thor were in there. Bruce had exchanged his cereal bowl for a cup of coffee and Thor was not eating anything. They were talking, but Jane didn't care to listen. She was using all her skill of concentration on Thor, just Thor. His golden hair, his brilliant smile, his red eyes. Wait, what? Jane did a double take. His eyes were blue. Of course, they were. They've always been blue. The only person with red eyes…

"I have Thor," she said quickly. She hoped saying the words aloud would add weight to them. They were empty.

She laid the mirror face down with a sigh.

Sitting on her bed, she, be default, went back to thinking of Loki and his tantrum. Was it something she said? They were only talking about magic and he was so easy to talk to in that moment… aside from those strange flirtations, but it was nonetheless pleasant altogether. Whatever set him off it was clear he was in no mood for company. Was there a reason he was shutting her out? She thought they made progress, but now she was unsure. There had to be something she could do to remedy this.

/

* * *

/

He should not have snapped at her, Loki chided himself as he walked the halls. It couldn't be helped; it was Thor's fault. Everything was. Even across the span of several realms and his brother was still a nuisance.

This was for the best, he reasoned, turning down a familiar hall he hadn't trespassed in what felt like a lifetime ago. She never would have loved him and it was useless to have any sort of attachment towards her. He ignored the jilted feeling he had when fear crept into her eyes and did his best now not to think on it. In fact, he shouldn't be dwelling on it - there was a task at hand. He stopped in front of the ageless door, staring up at it uneasily. An urge to knock swelled up in him, but he fought it back and swung it open without another thought, hurrying inside before he changed his mind. He hesitated once he was a few steps in. Nostalgia wafted over him, but he ignored the sentiment and went straight to his intended destination. Odin's desk.

It was not the first time Loki snuck into Odin's room to snoop. Over the years, there were plenty of times he had found his way into these chambers and from accident or conscious probing, he had discovered several secret compartments in this desk – some full of books Loki was forbidden to read, others full of useless trinkets. It became abundantly clear to him that if there was anything to find in this room, it was in the desk. And that was where he would start.

From his memories, he drudged up where he had found several secret areas. By lifting, rearranging and stacking certain books, a slot in the shelf opened, revealing one space full of papers, but not what he sought. He tried another arrangement. Another slot. Old, useless coins. He tried another. One more slot. More papers. He tried another and another and more after that. Nothing.

 _This is going to take longer than I thought._ Loki scowled at the desk and continued his search.

/

* * *

/

The desk stood aloof as ever, revealing nothing in its resolute silence. The shelves were splotched with black openings, all full of junk that held no value in the prince's eyes, and several new drawers stayed wide open to reveal overflowing scrolls and other worthless items that weren't of any importance.

There was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Loki sat on the floor, back pressed against the wall as he burned holes into the dreaded furniture next to him. Was he wrong in his assumption? If it was going to be anywhere, wouldn't this be where Odin would have kept it? Unless… there wasn't anything to find. Loki deflated, his frown deepening. He let out a frustrated groan. He wasted so much time in this foolish man's room. Tired and done with this entire day, he made to get up when something caught his eye. In the bottom corner of the desk next to the wall, the wood pattern warped inward unlike the rest. Leaning closer, Loki got a better look. There was Asgard's symbol etched in the siding. He ascertained something could be pressed into it.

Scrabbling to his feet, Loki quickly went through the open slots again. _He had seen it._ There was a small ring or something that looked like it could fit that exact symbol. He shoved papers out of the way, disregarded all other nonsense until... _there it was_. A ring, no larger than what could fit his pinkie, sat among several objects he didn't care to pay attention. He wasted no time grabbing it and testing it against the symbol. To no surprise, it slid in and a compartment appeared next to it, bigger than the ones in the shelves, at least half the side of the desk. He peered inside. His breath stopped.

A book, old and ragged, sat atop a small box. Picking up the book, he noticed there was no title, only designs unrecognizable to his eyes. He opened it. The first page had written across the top in black ink, _"Jotunheim Research and Studies by Bjoern"._ He continued flipping through it, seeing more passages written in the same ink, all worn from time. There was a note affixed to the top of the first chapter. Loki scanned it briefly. The book was a journal, written by an unknown or forgotten traveler who had visited Jotunheim with the sole purpose of studying the creatures.

/

* * *

/

_That was it!_

Jane stood from her bed and headed into the hall. Why hadn't she thought of this sooner? Whenever she was being a moody teenager and tried to push him away, Erik would use this trick on her. When she reached her destination, she wasted no time opening the doors and rushing in. Fandral, Sif and the spice shakers were on the counter, seemingly in a conversation. They stopped to look at her questioningly.

"Milady," Fandral greeted first. "To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?"

"I want to bake cookies," Jane stated simply.

Fandral's mouth was beginning to curve into a smirk. Sif only grimaced.

"Not a word," she hissed at his ever widening grin.

/

* * *

/

_"_ _Day 40,_

_After a rigorous trial, the Jotuns seem to have accepted me into their society. One in particular has taken a shine to me and treats me as she would her son, which isn't as pleasant as it sounds. From what I have been able to gather in my short time here, mother Jotuns bond with their children by freezing the skin on their forearms. It does not seem to hurt them. On the contrary, I have come to realize this is a sign of affection. Fortunately, they are aware I can't handle their frost touch and tend not to get too physically close to me."_

Loki stared at the passages, skimming them carefully. He was in his chamber, book at his desk and his mind spinning. From what he garnered from the writing so far was that the particular village the Asgardian explorer encountered was a less aggressive tribe from the other larger ones surrounding it, which was why he was able to come across it in the first place. Loki skipped past these parts, not wanting to dwell on the explorer's flowery words. He stopped when he came across a page with big letters across the top that read, _"Jotuns; Restricted Frost touch"._

He read the passage in its entirety, careful not to miss a detail. When he was done, he only sat there quietly with his thoughts. Everything made sense now.

_"_ _I have discovered something amazing today. When that motherly Jotun, Anja, reached for a cloth she had wanted to show me, she clasped her other hand on my arm. I panicked, having thought she was about to freeze it off. To my surprise, nothing happened and she continued resting it there as if this familiarity was natural. When I asked her about it, she seemed to have momentarily not realized she did it. Then she explained that Jotuns don't always freeze everything they touch. She teased, asking how I thought they could eat and drink if everything froze solid. I was amazed. I had never seen this before. I had to study it further."_

Frost Giants, when borne, have no control over their frost abilities. As babies they are given trinkets that when played with for long periods of time, restrain their chaotic energy. There was a diagram depicting simple, enchanted toys that could be created out of about anything. Loki was entranced by that page. He recognized all of them. They were the objects in that box he had found along with the book. Odin had been giving him power restricting items since infancy. This had to be why he wasn't able to use any of his frost touch. The thought comforted him momentarily, and he remembered how he had been able to touch Jane without harm. A piece of the passage was still nagging at him. A grown Jotun – _Anja_ – was able to casually touch this Asgardian explorer without hindrance. He read on, trying to find where the explorer explained this phenomenon.

There was not much of an explanation nor was it a surprise. Frost Giants were simply able to teach their young how to control their powers and it could come and go as they commanded. Loki frowned then and held out his hand. He stretched it out to its tips, studying it meticulously. Concentrating, he willed his being to call out to any frost particles he could find. Nothing happened. He read on.

It seemed that when infants to young adult Jotuns who only ever have been given restraining items and never taught how to command it, were unable to call upon their frost touch. Left untreated, it lasted until death. However, not all was lost – if given the same objects used to restrain the powers, they could be called forth again.

Loki felt like his brain had turned to sludge. There was so much to take in. On one hand, Odin restrained his full potential and that was irritating to know. He always felt like Odin was holding him back somehow and now he knew for sure. On the other hand, and he would never admit this aloud, he was almost grateful he never learned these powers. He couldn't imagine his younger self discovering he had _frost touch,_ an ability only _frost giants,_ commanded and not becoming suspicious. Would things have been different, he wondered.

It didn't matter. What happened had happened and there was no changing it. The only good thing he could take from all this was the understanding of why he was never able to harm Jane with his touch and that brought a measure of comfort to him. At least, he knew why.

Turning the page, he arched an eyebrow at the title. He blanched, or he felt like he did. _"Mating Rituals"._

He went to immediately turn the page, but found he wasn't sure if he should. Did it matter? Was there something he should know about it? He decided not to read it now, but would bookmark it for a later date. There could prove to be something useful. As he reached over to grab a bookmark from his shelf, his eye caught a phrase that halted his movement. _"… especially_ Midgardians _as they are so frail…"_

Loki looked at where he found that. It was in the middle of a large block of text and so he started at the top of the paragraph. He immediately felt all the blood drain from his face once he read the first sentence. _'Whether able to control their powers or not, Jotuns instinctively retract their defensive frost touch when in the presence of their non-Jotun life mate…'_

The book slammed shut. Loki's hand rested on it firmly. He remained motionless. After a few minutes, he decided it was about time he took a break. He did enough reading to last a life time and then several after. Rising from his seat, he peered out the window, finding that the sun's rays were winking over the horizon. Had it been that long? Jane passed his thoughts briefly then – _what was she doing? Was she still mad at him?_ – but he immediately pressed them back. It did not matter. It was better that distance remained between them. His eyes glanced back down at the book. Besides he wasn't too sure he wanted to see her at that moment. The reasoning, to Loki's vexation, did not quiet his thoughts of her. He would walk around the palace and if he ran into her during his stroll, it was no consequence to him. He wasn't seeking her out in the least.

/

* * *

/

The dining hall was void of life as were the halls. It seemed no one was around. If he passed her door, he did his utmost to pretend he hadn't. And if there wasn't a sound in there, he wasn't concentrating to pick up on it. But, if he had been concentrating, he'd be able to report that her room was dead silent. That was if he cared to listen. Which he didn't. And that was what he would tell anyone who bothered to pester him about it.

The library and garden were equally deserted. He was running out of places to look and he told himself firmly that it didn't trouble him, though his mouth was becoming dry and there was a tick at the back of his head that felt close to the beginning of apprehension, but he ignored it as he also ignored the continuous questions his mind conjured about her. All the noise, thoughts, ticking, and not-panicking stopped at once when he opened a door and there she was.

Hair tied back from her face, drawing attention to her smooth cheekbones and soft eyes, Jane Foster hunched over a mixing bowl, spoon in hand, stirring a doughy substance that reminded him of an underdeveloped version of a Vanir delicacy. Fandral, Sif, Hogun and Volstagg he noticed, were by the spice rack across the kitchen.

Slowly, quietly, he trespassed across the floor, getting a closer look at what she was doing. She was in her Midgardian clothes – _again_ – with her sleeves rolled up and patches of powder on her shirt and jeans as if she threw it more on herself than in the bowl.

"Hello," Jane said without looking up from her bowl. "Nice to see you joined us."

Loki stiffened. How in the world did she know he was there?

Fandral grinned at Sif playfully. "I told you giving her a signal when he was here would be entertaining. Look at his face!"

Sif shook her head, but admitted it was funny to see Loki so off guard.

Loki acted as casual as possible. "What are you making?" he asked.

"Well, we were both in sour moods earlier and I thought something sweet could improve things." Still miffed at him for how he acted, she added, "Not because I love you or anything. I just care about you." She laughed at the confused look on his face. "That's how Erik would react whenever he did this for me. He would tell me that he only ever made them because he cared and I shouldn't read more into it. I knew he was just mad though at my attitude and he never meant it like that."

Loki stared at her skeptically. Why was she making _him_ something? She said because she cared, but was that a joke on her part? He decided to ignore that for now and instead looked into her bowl, coming up to her side. Her technique wasn't effective at all. He took the spoon from her to which she gawked.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm doing it right," he explained, stirring the bowl. "Your way is wrong. And what did you put in this? This is nothing like Asgardian dough. You have no idea what you're doing."

Jane tried to take back the spoon, but Loki was stronger and she was unable to pull it from his grasp. She clutched the spoon above Loki's hand and was adamant not to let it go. "That's because it isn't Asgardian. It's _Mid_ gardian. And you wouldn't know anything about that."

"Asgardian cooking is better. You should let me do it."

"No, we go by _my_ recipe or you're not allowed to have any."

Loki would admit it was a tempting thought to have her cook something for him. He released the spoon, letting her have it, and smiled at the way her face lit up in triumph. He held his hands out to her. "Show me then. How do you make _Midgardian_ sweets?"

They were making what Jane told him were 'cookies'. He then went on to tell her they had similar sweets on Asgard, but before he could tell her they were better, she told him that they would be going by what she said or there wouldn't be any at all. He agreed to follow her ways. But, that didn't stop him from adding a dash of this or that when her back was turned.

After a while, Loki felt he should say something about what happened. As he was about to, he realized just how close they were standing and the passage about mates flashed across his mind. He cleared his throat. She looked up at him. Her eyes were beautiful. Wetting his suddenly dry lips, he began, "About earlier-"

"No," she interrupted. He frowned. She went on, "It doesn't matter. I mean, it does. But, it's in the past. Clearly, there was something said that bothered you and you pushed me away. It's normal teenager stuff."

Loki narrowed his eyes at her. "I am far from a teenager. I am old enough to have met your ancestor's ancestors," he corrected her. She didn't seem phased.

"It's too late." She smiled. "Fandral told me. Relative to my age, you're nineteen in Asgardian years."

Loki glared at the candlestick who waved back happily. He didn't want her to be aware of his age compared to mortals. It made him uncomfortable, like she had something to hold over him. But, when he turned back to her, she didn't look like she was ready to taunt him about it.

"Look, I'm just saying, I don't know what you're going through, but I used to shut out people by being nasty, too." She shrugged. "You know, when I was younger and things got…" she hesitated as if not ready to reveal this part of herself yet. Finally, she settled with, "complicated."

"Well, things certainly are complicated," Loki allowed. Then in a hiss, he snarled, "But, I am not going through 'teenager stuff'."

Jane patted his shoulder. "Not right now. You're making cookies with me. Now come on. We have to get a move on if we want these to get done tonight."

Loki watched as she went back to the bowl and threw in a few more ingredients before stirring. He found himself staring at her again and it irritated him how frequently it happened. _That wretched journal_.

"Loki." He startled from his thoughts at the sound of her voice. "Could you grab the sugar or whatever the Asgardian equivalent is?"

It was next to her. He was about to tell her, but decided it would let him do something to distract him from his thoughts and went to reach for it.

Jane turned. "Oh, wait, never mind, is this-"

The words fell into a soft silence when Loki's and Jane's hands touched. They froze, staring at the white and blue against each other. Regaining her senses, Jane pulled away, but stiffened when Loki reached out and took her hand back, prompting her to look at him in bewilderment.

Fandral watched them intensely, halted in his movement. "Now kiss," he whispered.

Sif stared, too, but more in case she needed to intervene.

The tension was broken once Jane swiped her hand across Loki's face, startling him. A smudge of white was left on his nose and he went cross-eyed trying to look at it. Jane laughed, smiling at him, and he frowned, having already released her hand. He wiped it off and looked at the powder on his fingers. It was from the mixing bowl.

"That was childish," he deadpanned, but she was still laughing.

Her laughter stopped when flour hit her in the face and showered her in a cloud of it. She glared at Loki who was now smirking. " _That_ was childish," she mocked.

"Not when I do it."

She looked at one of the jars full of sugar and then back at him. His smirk vanished and he set a scathing glare on her. "Don't you dare," he warned. It was too late. She was already reaching for it. He grabbed for another jar and soon it was an all-out war zone.

Sif smiled at them in spite of herself.

Fandral caught it and nudged her. "Look who's coming around."

"I am not," she said adamantly, still looking at the scene, whatever it was, with a sort of fondness. "I just prefer Loki not destroying everything. It almost reminds me… it almost reminds me of when he was younger and pranks were the main concern about him."

"True, those were simpler times." He grinned as he watched them. "I haven't seen Loki this happy in a long time."

Sif was quiet a moment. Watching them. "Yeah," she agreed at last.

/

* * *

/

Once the commotion had settled down, Jane stirred the batter absently. She was disturbed by her own thoughts. A kiss. For Loki.


End file.
